My Elven Warlord Can't Be This Cute!
by Morality is a Spook
Summary: Tiffania Westwood needed a familiar, she just didn't know it yet. Who is a better familiar for an innocent elf maiden than a King of Elves? The Witch King, of course! To Malekith at least the trees didn't have eyes and no Chaos Daemons were in sight. Rated M for Morathi, Malekith and what they do in their free time.
1. Prologue: Gimme a break

_**My Elven warlord can't be this cute!**_

**Tiffania Westwood needed a familiar, she just didn't know it yet. Who is a better familiar for an innocent elf maiden than a King of Elves? The Witch King, of course! To Malekith at least the trees didn't have eyes and no Chaos Daemons were in sight.**

**A.N: I'm still basing this off The Total War Warhammer lore rather than the End Times with some other stuff mixed in, but don't worry! Malekith remains the complex (odepius) villain we love him for. Also, some End Time spoilers! Also, the Asur have homosexual tendencies!**

_**Warnings: Malekith and the Druchii is his own warning.**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own shit except the belief that Malekith is entitled to tendies and Mommy's milkies!**_

_Pairings- Malekith IS the King of Witches and a momma's boy to the boot!_

Prologue-Is this a cosmic joke?!

Ulthuan burned.

Black Arks swarmed the Sea of Dreams, gliding like clouds over the once azure sea that now ran red with the blood of the Elven race, while Black Dragons clouded the skies alongside swarms of harpies, that harried the last remaining phoenixes on the land. Lohkir Fellheart stood atop of his flagship, the Tower of Blessed Dread. His dark sails blowing in the wind as the Grand Fleet of Naggarond plundered the remains of the once proud Asur ships. The bestial roar of the Amanar could be heard in the distance as it devoured the remains of the wretched undead that had sought to enslave the proud beast. The head of the leaders of these wretches adorned his cabin wall now. However, in the aftermath of the great invasion that had ensued, the Krakenlord was itching for a prince, of course Tyrion and Teclis were already spoken for, but Aislinn was his. The Asur Sea-lord had proclaimed himself to be the champion of Matlann and as any self-respecting corsair Lohkir had a duty to capture the High Elf and use his skin as his new personal standard.

"Sir" an executioner of Har Ganeth, bearing the missive of the royal seal of Malekith bowed before the imposing stature of the Krakenlord and offered him a small scroll of parchment. The Lord of Karond Kar looked at the elf behind his mask of the kraken and the messenger immediately understood the intent and unrolled the parchment. The masked visage of the Witch King looked at the Krakenlord, who immediately bowed to his liege and knelt on one knee to receive the missive. His bodyguards followed suit and all of the throne room of the Tower of Blessed Dread was know kneeling before the astral form of their king.

"**Lord Fellheart **" The king spoke "**Congratulations are in order! You have squashed the fleet of Asur and made them helpless in the further occupation. The Asur will never forget this day and you, Guardian of Karond Kar.**"

Shivers ran down the reaver's back as this was not a voice of any mortal elf. It was deep and every word it spoke made what little hair he had on his body to stand up in attention and cold sweat marched down his brow. He had done it! After all this time they had succeeded, and the vortex was now theirs to be used in whatever way the king deemed fit. Lohkir knew that the slightest slip of tongue would drive him to mortal peril, but before he was able to answer to the son of Aenarion, the king continued with amusement in his voice.

"**Galean Vale is mine and once the final embers of rebellion are smothered. A feast will be had to proclaim my RIGHTFUL ascension to the throne. No more petty wars will hound our kind and once again our empire will span the world and reclaim it from the ignorant men, vicious Orks and the restless undead that claim dominion of our clay.**" He boldly proclaimed and the Krakenlord had to admit that this sounded promising as reavers would always thrive in the wars that would inevitably follow.

"I hear and obey, your highness" Lokhir answered and even through the projection he could almost taste the satisfaction in Malekith's voice "Of course the Eternity fleet will need to be expanded and reinforced for the increase of slaves to rebuild the realm…"

Malekith laughed and shook his head "**You are an insolent one, Lokhir Fellheart**" a pit grew in the corsairs stomach as he realized that he might have pushed too far and now would pay dearly for this "**However**" his clawed gauntlet scratched the golden visor "**This is a good day for our people as this farce of a Civil War has ended and what king would I be if I was to deprive a loyal servant his just advancement in my ranks.**" He spoke, before pulling himself closer, the spectral form of his head coming an inch of Fellheart's face

"**Surprise me ,Krakenlord, and you shall have your wish.**" Having said this the conjured vapour in form of Malekith's head disappeared back into the scroll that turned into ash in front of him. The throne room returned to light and Lokhir Fellheart stood up and after him, the rest of the throne room with the messenger and bodyguards.

The lone executioner tried to leave, but his path was barred by the crossed halberds of Fellhearts private guard.

"I cannot allow you to spread the Witch King's word" Fellheart said and unhooked his blades from his belt.

"I knew that once the king gave me this order, Krakenlord" the executioner answered bitterly and readied his draich.

"Oh?" the reaver lord asked with a raised eyebrow behind his mask. The doomed executioner nodded and removed his mask, showing a scar left from the king of Zhandri's Khopesh. The reaction of the Krakenlord was not to be expected as he sheathed his own blades and clapped, while his laughter reverberated through the hall.

"Dastan Coldeye! As I live and breathe!" the corsair removed his own helmet, before passing it to the nearest bodyguard, while the rest made a circle surrounding the two fighters.

"I was wondering what became of you, but now those brief moments shall pay off as I'll send you to Khaine by mine own two hands!" his red eyes bore into Coldeye's light blue.

"Your head will join your victims on the wall!" Dastan snarled and ran at the other corsair, who already had drawn his blades again and with a mad cackle met his foe.

None would speak of what had transpired there, yet a single command came from the Black Ark of Lokhir Fellheart "Whoever would bring the Krakenlord the head of Aislinn of Asur would receive anything their hearts would desire. Immediately the corsairs of Druchii fleets stopped their revelry of victory against their hated kin, before looking for the corpse of the Sea Lord amidst the sea of other corpses that now floated in the Sea of Dreams and Ulthuan.

* * *

From the throne room of the Phoenix King, the Witch King coldly watched through the conjured orbs around him the carnage that was happening in the cities of Asur. In Lothern, Tor Elyr, even in Galean Vale, the capital of Asur the hosts of Druchii could be seen, raiding and pillaging the white cities. For the Witch King it almost seemed like a dream that after all these thousands of years, failed invasions and schemes, this time, the mad scheme of Skaven had been the linchpin that they had needed to take the lands of their cursed foes. Somehow, in an incredible twist of fate and providence of Khaine and Hekharti, the fleets of Lokhir Fellheart had saved Amanar from an undead plot and in turn had won the favour of the Merwyrm in one wish. The Witch King had truly been happy to spy Tyrion's and Teclis' horrified faces when they saw their ancient guardian turn on them. From there it was easy enough to muster his fleets and legions of Black Dragons to finally assault Ulthuan. For months they had fought over the sundered isles and in the end Malekith had proved that he had Aenarion's blood in spades as he had torn down Tyrion down from his Pegasus with Sepharon. The shock of surprise and loss was satisfying enough that an almost permanent grin was etched on Malekith's face since, then his mother informed him of the death of Teclis of the Order of Loremasters. Even now the grin showed no signs of disappearing from the Dark Lord's face.

"Ah, Finubar" the Witch King called to the former Phoenix King, whose golden robes were splattered with blood and viscera. In the once noble king's eyes all fire had been extinguished and there he sat on the floor unmoving, unshaking- with a stream of tears running down his face.

"**I must say it really is a shame about your entire family**" he mused aloud "**But Hellebron truly did the proper appreciation for ones liege after this sacrifice. It is a shame that we didn't find your wife or **_**your**_** daughter**" Malekith laughed at the defeated Elf Lord and removed his face plate to drink the finest wine the Asur artisans could offer.

"**Both would be a sight to see in my bed, wouldn't you agree?**" Malekith swirled the wine in the goblet and narrowed his eyes as Finubar just sat there, still crying. Anger surged in the Witch King that even defeated, the Phoenix King, this shameless cur cried and did little else.

"**Bah**" the first of the Druchii sneered and splashed his prisoner with wine "**It's even a waste to pour wine on you**" he snarled with distaste. He hated weakness, when he himself had experienced setbacks and humiliating defeats, yet he had prevailed! Providence or his own force of will, Malekith had survived the mind-flaying realms of Chaos and had prevailed, for Khaine's sake!

So the King of Dark Elves sat there and watched as his troops stamped out the last strongholds of resistance and when finally the flags of Naggarond flew from the 'unbreakable' Griffin Gate, Malekith summoned his Black Council to the shrine of Asuryan where he could be at last crowned the king of all Elves as it was rightfully his duty.

It was an hour before midnight that the Black Council had gathered in the Shrine whilst under the watchful eye of Eldire Darkblade a banquet in light of Malekith's coronation was to be held in the palace. The tattered banners of Dreadlords who had survived the invasion by might or guile surrounded the shrine with Black Guard of Naggarond that made sure no unwelcome guest was to interrupt them. The nobles waited in the cold sea wind of Ulthuan, beneath the vortex as it swirled like before the mighty roar of Seraphon drew the attention of the gathered. The mighty Black Dragon landed in front of the shrine and from him descended Morathi and Malekith himself.

To the surprise to the gathered Morathi had shed her witches garments and adorned herself in the dress that she had worn in Aenarions rule, jewels and gold shimmered in the moonlight that shone through the vortex, if the dreadlord had been recently appointed or hadn't heard of the sorceress, they would have thought this enchanting woman to be the Witch Kings intended and if rumors were to be listened to, it was not far from the truth.

In an uncharacteristic display Malekith first descended from the saddle, before offering his mother a hand. Morathi descended gently and hooked her arm into Malekith's elbow as she escorted him deeper into the shrine, a gentle smile could be seen on her face as she walked past, yet all who had seen this would ever refuse to breathe a word to this. The dreadlords tried to follow their king and his mother, but their way was crossed by the barbed halberds of the Black Guard.

"What is the meaning of this?!" one of the younger dreadlords raised his voice. The line of black armoured guards parted before them and the imposing figure of Kouran Darkhand himself, the dreaded sergeant of Malekith slammed the butt of his halberd, the infamous Crimson Death, into the white marble floor, cracking it.

Some of the more vocal dreadlords swiftly slinked into the background leaving the younger dreadlord face to face with the Captain.

"What is your name?" the Dark Hand asked and the dreadlord in front of him stammered

"M-M-Marvirr, sir"

"Marvirr" the Dark hand looked the dreadlord in the eye "His Highness himself forbade the entry into the Shrine for anyone except His Highness and the Great Priestess of Hekharti. Are you either of them? Impersonation of this scale warrants the most serious of punishments…"

"N-No" Marvirr shook his head multiple times, before he collected his wits. Everyone else watched the spectacle with bated breath and some snickering could be heard "I wanted to be sure of his Highness safety once he emerges from the flames with his birthright. It is known that such rituals can be taxing to both body and mind so I wanted to witness the ceremony and help our King in his time of need as any subject would."

Kouran tilted his head and hummed for a moment considering the speech "Good answer. If it was any other day you would lose your head for your insolence." He rumbled and like a ghost vanished behind the lines of the Black guard, leaving Marvirr terrified out of his wits and the rest deciding that today they shouldn't push their luck.

In the back, Lohkir Fellheart cursed softly as the human skin satchel in his hands started to leak blood.

* * *

The shrine was itself silent, the Phoenix Kings from ages past looked at Malekith and Morathi as they entered the chamber where the Flame of Asuryan still burned.

"**You can stop this pretense now**" Malekith rumbled as Morathi still clung to her son's elbow, smile still dancing on her lips. She looked at him with her violet eyes and stroked his arm.

"My son" she sighed with contentment "You cannot imagine how long have we waited for this moment. Imagine! After these thousands of years of war and ruin for our people, you finally achieved victory and wrested the throne from these usurpers at this impassionate speech Malekith let out a snort unbefitting a king with such reputation as he.

"**Since Alarielle is eluding your forces and magic it leaves the position of Everqueen vacant**" he said, yet to his surprise the smile was still on his mother's face "**Though I cannot see you in the role, if you can forgive me**"

She beamed at him "Oh it is nothing like that!" Morathi waved her finger coyly at him "I found your trueborn heir, borne from your union with Allisara all those centuries ago"

World came to a halt as his mother had found another chink in his armour, oh how he hated Morathi when she was like this. She may have been his mother, but when she played these games, he wished he could snap her lithe neck and be done with it.

"**What is it that you did?!**" Malekith turned to his mother and quickly slammed her to the wall, causing Morathi grunt and her elaborately done hair unravel into her wild black tresses.

"He was a brave warrior, yet brainwashed by Teclis to be his personal bodyguard" she wheezed out as Malekith's gauntlet tried to crush her throat.

"**I don't believe you**" the Witch King's venomous green eyes bore into the sorceress and squeezed "**You orchestrated the death of my wife without a second thought**" his fingers were already starting to leave bruises that healed, yet he continued to squeeze and yet his mother's gaze remained full of steel and spite.

"She would have ruined you."

"**Like I ruined myself?**" he asked and Morathi's hands cupped his metal mask. Her eyes softened and Malekith didn't want to lie to himself that she felt pity for him.

"No, my sun" He recalled that she had called his father in that name "Never. These setbacks were just that, setbacks. You will be restored once Asuryan sees that you were always the rightful Lord of Elven people"

"**Even after I have pillaged his faithful followers, enslaved, sacked and razed their proud cities?**" yet the grip now lessened and Morathi caressed the golden face, twisted into a gruesome leer.

"Yes, for you have changed. Hardship has forged you into the deadliest sword in the world and the greatest shield of our kin. Asuryan _WILL_ _NOT_ refuse you!" Morathi's eyes now were ablaze with fervor and the sorceress seemed to have forgotten the grip her son held on her throat as she sought to wrap her arms around him.

"**If Asuryan won't take me-**" Malekith released her throat, allowing Morathi to bring her arms around him "Don't say that!" she slapped the helmet with considerable force, yet the Witch King remained undeterred.

"**If Asuryan won't take me, Kouran will have my last orders**" the Witch King pulled her off him and walked into the ritual chamber, with Morathis silently following suit. Conjuring a magical portal, Malekith willed from it a crystal vase crafted by the most skilled sorceresses. It was brimming with glowing pink elixir, bound by five peculiar souls to master the vortex and its power, yet the Witch King had decided against this foolhardy ritual in favor of preparing his body to face the flames of Asuryan for the final time and prove to all of the world that he had been the rightful heir all along!

In the chamber two virginal maidens clad only in the lightest, almost transparent dresses awaited him, hand-picked by his own design in the ritual that would follow. There was no need for virgin blood, but Malekith appreciated the symbolism. He handed his mother the vase and spread his arms.

They first removed his helm, carefully setting it down on the floor, then their nimble fingers removed the cape, gauntlets, breastplate and lastly, the leggings, after that of course came the under-armor and the rest of his clothing. The maidens did their job with silent efficiency and no hesitation as they had done the same motions countless times. Yet they were unsullied. Then they brought out two small bowls with perfume and ointment that ailed the balms of his ravaged flesh.

The Witch King was covered in scars. From blades, claws, arrows, yet the worst burns that covered his entire body were the oldest, the very same he had suffered the very first time he had sought the approval of Asuryan. Yet despite these scars and burns, the figure of Malekith was a subject of both desire and awe as no muscle in his body was left untrained by hardship and adversity to make him the legendary sorcerer and warrior that he was today. Despite the burns his face still retained some semblance of the charm he had inherited from his parents. There was no revulsion in the service of their King.

The oils and perfume covered every inch of his body. No nook or cranny of his body was left untouched by the perfume and oil, administered by soft and dainty hands. Despite their sensual touches, the true Phoenix King felt nothing, but searing anxiety before the flames. Standing in the shadows Morathi watched and summoned her staff of Khairadon, which she held in one hand, while in other she maintained a careful grip on the vase, not allowing a single drop to spill.

"**Mother**" Malekith turned to her in his naked form "**Hand me the elixir**" he asked, some measure of gentleness in his voice. He seemed not to mind the staff of magic in her hand as she passed him the vase. Clasping the vessel with both hands he raised to his lips and drank in the liquid. The potion seemed to burn his throat and blind his eyes, yet his body didn't allow collapse. Instead his green eyes glowed bright, before dimming once more and returning to his natural state. In a second the elixir had done its work and Malekith felt no change. If the ritual failed, Fellicion's soul would entertain the daemons of Slaneesh for eternity. He put the vase on the ground and approached Morathi.

"**IF-**" he started to say, but stopped "**IF…**" he continued "**If I don't return**" he said standing there before her "**This is what** **I want you to know**"

Then he pulled her close and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead.

To other Druchii this would have seemed like a meaningless gesture, yet in that moment Morathi realized that it had meant more than the Witch King of Naggarond, the son of Aenarion-, no just Malekith, could ever say with words.

Yet she couldn't say these words back.

The King of Druchii let go of his mother, spared his mother one last look and walked away from her, just like Aenarion had and stepped into the flames. In that same moment screams echoed across the chamber and those weren't the screams of the Witch King.

Malekith screamed as the flames burned through all magic protection and slung him back. Yet it was not his flesh that suffered the most. His mind, his spirit, his very own black soul was laid bare before the living fire that was Asuryan. In his mind he relived thousands of years in an instant. His own betrayal, the heresy, arrogance and how he had mistakenly sought the flames for the first time. Yet for the short moment Malekith had considered warping to the Realm of Chaos, but the Witch King wouldn't run.

Last time had he not done so, not flames would have killed him but the arrogant Asur, this time it was of his own will and of his own will Malekith would perish or rise as the Lord of All Elves. As memories flashed before his own eyes, he saw the first time he went into the flames, his own uncertainty, his guilt and shame for betraying his former friend and allowing the corruption to foster. The moment he entered the flames that day, it was clear that he was not worthy as he himself had recognized it. This realization was more crushing than all of the suffering he had experienced afterwards. It was by his own hand that he had wrought the misery upon the elven race and sundered the once mighty people. In the end, he still wasn't worthy. Multicoloured flames swallowed him and a strange peace dawned upon him. Was it the realization that he had failed all along and the needless carnage had just fostered hatred in him and split them into irreconcilable parts that let him surrender to the flames? Was it the thought that his own son who had perished in the invasion of Ultuan was for naught? With his body almost completely swallowed by flames, Malekith didn't feel pain or cold, just air as from scarred muscle and bones he started to turn into dust. Yet a nagging thought ate at him. Why should he surrender? After all even with all the evil he had done, his duty was to repair it, to make it whole again. Without him the dreadlords would squabble under his mother's leadership…Mother! Malekith's thoughts turned to Morathi, who would go mad with grief as she had done with his fathers passing and the Witch King knew that the sorceress wouldn't survive another loss of this magnitude.

No! He wouldn't surrender, his people needed him! Morathi needed him!

The flames receded in a lightning quick pace and immediately the whole world went dark. Malekith was floating around in the void with his body fully restored. Did it work? The Dark Elf thought, but then it was as if an invisible force had yanked him and the Druchii was sent careening through the space, before he stopped before a giant blinding flame of all the colours of the rainbow.

"_**HOW ARROGANT OF YOU, CHILD OF HEKHARTI AND AKHARTI**_" it smoldered and Malekith then knew that Asuryan himself had deigned to appear before him, or rather he before Asuryan.

"_**TO THINK YOU DESERVE SOMETHING BECAUSE YOU HAVE SUFFERED AND FOUGHT FOR IT. YOU WHO HAVE SUNDERED YOUR ENTIRE RACE DUE TO A SLIGHTED PRIDE?! WHY SHOULD YOU RETURN? TO CAUSE EVEN MORE SUFFERING TO YOUR KINDRED?**_" As these accusations swelled, Malekith had finally recovered enough of his voice to speak.

"No!" He cried out to Asuryan "I have caused my people enough pain already! If they must survive then they must be made whole. Without me, my mother will rule, and she won't live through grief a second time! Neither will the Elves!" In the state of floating void Malekith had shifted himself on his knees.

The flame merely burned for what seemed an eternity, before it grew again, now twice the size of Malekith.

"_**YOU? A MERE SCRAPS OF THE SOUL OF AENARION AND THE REMAINS OF HEKHARTI AND ANKHARTI'S DIVINITY?!**_" Asuryan thundered and the world stopped for Malekith. What did it mean? The Witch King couldn't comprehend of what had been spoken, but no longer could he speak because Asuryan continued his smoldering as sparks jumped from the fire of various colours.

"_**PROVE IT TO ME, YOU SCAB OF CREATION, THAT YOUR WRETCHED THING YOU CALL A SOUL IS INDEED CAPABLE OF WHAT YOU SPEAK! THEN YOU WILL RECEIVE YOUR WISH!**_"

Malekith could speak again, but was he Malekith? Before he could ask anything more the flame grew and grew, before it had consumed everything in his sight. Last thing the Witch King of Naggarond saw was blinding light and a young girl's voice screaming.

At the same moment the flame of Asuryan went out in the Shrine. Leaving no trace of the Witch King, but the gentle smell of perfumed and enchanted oil.

Morathi collapsed in grief, tears, since the first time of forever threatening to swell from her eyes. Yet a small ember flickered in the air, before landing where the first tear would have dropped. A smile returned to the sorceress's lips despite the terror of the maidens, who had seen their lord seemingly die.

"Don't worry" Morathi said to the girls as she brushed her eyes and ruined her makeup "my sun will return."

The two maidens looked at one another, yet they want to didn't question the de-facto leader of Elves.

"Come along" she called to them "It's not the first time he has demonstrated his spectacular ability to vanish with magic. He will be back."

"And when he will, I won't let him out of my sight!"

* * *

On another world with two moons dancing in the night sky, lived an elf. A half-elf exactly, she was blonde of hair and merely 17 years old. To most of her kind it was barely out of infancy, but for humans it was a reasonable age to found a family and start your own life elsewhere. But humans bred like crazy and were violent savages, whose words shouldn't be listened to. In this world, Elves were a cold knowing kind, that valued laws of order so much that they forsake creativity and growth that came with it, but once they had been different, but that had changed with the revolution against decadence as they had called it.

However, this half-elf had been raised by her father and herself, well, mostly herself and knew nothing of Elvish customs and dogmas. Of magic she knew very little, some utility spells to help her through the day and a weak curse of forgetfulness that allowed her a life of peace and quiet.

Her little cottage lied next to large stream, where she would bathe and catch fish, if her mind so desired.

It was unfortunate that this peaceful life had come to an end today.

For you see the human blood she carried in herself was that of the human Duke of Albion, where a rebellion had happened recently and it would have been inconvenient for an heir to appear in addition of the prince Wales.

"Come out you half-demon slag" one of the line class mage muttered as he and his fellow assassins surrounded the cottage. He himself was a fire mage, sent from Romalia in aid of these mercenaries to further his countries interests. The three others were assassins only in the loosest sense. They were hired thugs, drunkards and rapists who could be counted on to do the dirty work. It comforted him that after the mission was over, the three would never leave the forest alive.

"*hic* Yea" a man armed with a sword , dressed in a gambeson agreed "We an bois don't wanna hert yer cute head. Jus talk! Roight lads?"

"Yea we juss wanna have some fun!" the other man with a shield and axe agreed. The third man with a crossbow remained in a safe distance, ready to take action if anything occurred out of ordinary.

They circled the little cottage and the wizard, Jean, decided to wait, nearby in wait for what if their victim wasn't at home right now and they would alarm her to the trouble, so the four fled and hid in the nearby forest. Why he decided on it may have been a hunch, but serving this long in Galian army had made hunches quite useful.

A few miles from the four men, the girl had dwelt deeper into the forest to find plants for a potion of well dreams, for the nightmares lately had been bothering her. Tiffania Westwood, or Tiffy as her mother had called her was fine. Humming a lullaby, she continued to gather her herbs in happy obliviousness. While her little cottage was fine, she missed the other orphans and sister Mathilda. The green haired girl had promised to visit with groceries, but lately she hadn't seen her, so the half-elf learned to cook herself and forage for herbs. The weather was nice, yet there was something in the air. It smelled like a warm stove or a bonfire.

Suddenly there was loud noise ahead of her as if someone had fallen from a tree. Being the curious creature that she was, Tiffania couldn't resist. The sound had been rather loud, but no birds had risen in the sky or any earth was thrown around. She wondered whatever could it be.

Gathering her little basket, she approached the place where she had heard the sound. As she walked into a clearing she saw a naked man lying on the ground. What a strange man, she tought and upon closer inspection it was a rather good-looking weird man, with pale skin, black hair and green eyes. He also had pointy ears!

Wait she also had pointy looking ears! Now thoughts raced through Tiffania's mind at the mysterious naked elf in front of her. Why would he come here, unless he was looking for her! Maybe he was a friend of her mother who had come to take her to elven lands so she wouldn't be alone.

The naked elf rose from the moss floor and was shocked at his nakedness. He stood up and started cursing, before conjuring himself a looking form fitting dark clothes fit for a prince as she recalled from the time she had Papa and Mama still.

"Hey you!" the now clothed strange man called to her. She had been spotted! Tiffania shyly stepped into the clearing.

The stranger muttered something like "Thank Asur" and approached her. He took a good look at her and bowed lightly. She curtsied as she remembered as the ladies in house had done when guests had come.

"Hello" the stranger began "I'm a bit lost" he scratched the back of his head and the half-elf listened attentively.

"Can you give me the nearest directions to an Elven settlement?" he asked and the blonde immediately deflated. So he wasn't sent there to find her…

She shook her head sadly "Sorry, but you're the first Elf I have seen besides Mama in a while." The elf princes face, well she didn't know he was a prince, but looking like that he had to be!

"Im Tiffania, it is nice to meet you!" she said and stretched her hand out in a handshake. The prince looked at her with confusion, before grabbing her hand and kissing the upper part of it. The half elf immediately retracted her hand, blushed and put them on her cheeks to hide her blush.

"I'm Malekith, son of Aenarion the W-, The Wizard" he said, before asking "Seeing your surprise of me being an Elf, It would be safe to assume that these are human lands?"

Tiffania nodded.

"Simply wonderful," Malekith clenched his hands. Tiffania noticed the tings beneath his eyes and the tell-tale signs of tiredness seemed that the wizard had travelled far enough and needed rest.

"Malekith, you seem tired" the girl said with a pensive look on her face "Maybe you would wish to stay the night at my house until tomorrow, before you continue your travels?" she asked, with her blush receding and Malekith seemed to consider the offer.

"Yes, that would be wonderful, but why are you so kind to a complete stranger?" the wizard asked. Tiffania smiled before answering "Well, no Elf has hurt me before"

Malekith nodded and flashed her a light smile "We are much better, you know…" Immediately the smile on the maiden's face returned and she pointed him in a direction.

"My house is that way!" she chirped "When we get there I'll make us some food, but you'll have to tell me of some of your travels, alright?"

"You will not hear me complaining, but wait a moment" the other elf said, before muttering something under his breath. A gust of wind landed in the clearing and Malekith swiftly picked up the girl in both arms let the wind carry them further.

"I cannot believe this" she cheered as he clung to his neck "I didn't know it was possible to do this without a wand. You must be a very strong wizard Malekith!" she praised, and the smile grew larger on his face "Of course I am, after all I was the greatest wizard in all of Naggarond!"

"Where's that?" she asked, but the wizard merely shushed her with a finger and soon they landed near the homely cottage.

"We have arrived" he said. Tiffania jumped out of his arms and hugged him before muttering "thank you" and heading inside.

"Will you come inside Malekith?" she poked her head outside the door, but the wizard rebuked her with a smile and a shake of his head.

"I'll join you in a moment" he placated her and a cheerful "alright" was the only answer he received.

The second the half-elf had vanished inside the house, a bloodthirsty grin appeared on Malekith's face. Ever since the beginning of his 'trial', the Witch King had itched on spilling blood, but parted with the Destroyer, his Spellshield, the Rod of Iron and worse of all Sepharon, there was only spellcraft and the most primitive art of killing left to him.

"Come out you dirty human swines" he magically amplified his voice, allowing it to carry in the forest. He didn't have to wait long. Four apes appeared at the edge of the forest. Three of them looked like the rabble he had seen in the slave pens, though not yet broken, while the last one seemed like he had some semblance of skill or whatever it passed for humans as he was clad in somewhat nondescript uniform, what betrayed was his stance.

"Oi and elf. We'll be famous if we killed ye!" the one with an axe and shield called out, yet a crossbow bolt was launched by the third, who seemed the more lucid of the three serfs.

However, Malekith was tired of this stupid standoff and muttered the incantation of word of pain and poured it in his circumstances and his hatred for humans. Unsurprisingly once the spell had been cast, the humans collapsed, foam frothing at the mouth and spasming in pain. The Witch King of Naggarond called upon Dhar, another thing in this strange world, that was abundant in the area and summoned a light gust of bladewind that carried the unfortunate robbers or whoever they were deep into the forest. Hopefully some beast would find them and rid him of the problem.

Suddenly he smelled food and having been denied his coronation feast the Witch King spared the last look to the forest and entered the small cottage thinking about the strange Asur girl he had met and why did her cooking smell wonderful. Asuryan better keep the end of his deal!

Despite the unlikely circumstances Malekith found himself in, he wasn't the only elf summoned to this strange world by godly will.

"I summoned an elf! I'm a heretic!" a pink haired girl panicked as a beautiful blonde elf woman, who might have been a queen, watched with tired eyes.

At least it was better than suffering Finubars attentions.

**A.N: Folks that's my second story about my second campaign with second best boy and first best mom in Warhammer universe. So how did you like it? Leave a comment to let me know and have a good day! High Elves in Warhammer are faggots!**

**-Spook**


	2. Chapter 1:Of cooking and dreams

_**My Elven warlord can't be this cute!**_

_**When Tiffania Westwood was in peril when the assassins of Reconquista found her. She desperately prayed for a noble and just familiar. What she got was the Witch King of Naggarond.**_

_**Warnings: see chapter 1**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own shit except the belief that Malekith is entitled to tendies and Mommy's milkies**_

Chapter 1- Of cooking and dreams

Succulent smell of home cooked food assaulted Malekith's senses as soon as the Dark Elf warlord stepped through the doorway. In the small room that both served as a living-room and kitchen, Tiffania was making her own magic over the stove and already a drink had been served on the table with plates and eating utensils and immediately the Elf was returned back to memories when it was last when someone had cooked a meal for him. It was almost his entire life, but none of those times the food was made simply because they wanted to feed him, but in face of necessity either by respect for his place in their society or under pain of death. The finest chefs of Naggarond had cooked him the most luxurious food in the world as he demanded and under the fear of death they often succeeded.

Sitting in the table in his new robes, without his metal skin that had once kept a secure distance between himself and his subjects, the Witch King felt naked. He looked around the room and was surprised how cosy the small cottage looked. Walls were lined with some paintings he guessed were of Tiffania's own making, while next to a makeshift sofa rested a small bookshelf filled with books. Spines on the books were books of magic in this strange world and cooking. Fitting for such a naïve and simple soul as the one before him.

Looking at the strange Asur, another wave of nostalgia hit Malekith as he recalled his late wife cooking at the stove with magic, before she had vanished. Another pang in his chest reminded him of the loss and Malekith recalled the words he remembered Asuryan had told him before he had sent him here.

"Prove that you can indeed save the Elven race" was what the god had asked of him and honestly Malekith had his doubts on the task as his faults were laid bare. He was vicious and cruel, lacking in empathy and disgusted by any displays of weakness, yet as he sat in this primitive, mundane, his mind supplied, cottage seeing a peasant cook him dinner, he realized that he harboured no ill will towards this female Asur. He had no wish to drive her in chains to the blood cauldrons or enslave her in the mines. The thought was paradoxical to him and completely alien.

"Am I plagued by some sort of Illness?" the Witch King quietly asked himself. This situation reminded him of all those centuries he had travelled the world and the wonders he had seen. After the Realm of Chaos almost every horror had become a wonder. Still he shuddered as he recalled the millennia he had endured there before his escape.

"Dig in!" the girl said, and a dish was shoved under Malekith's nose. It was a plentiful amounts of potatoes with mushroom sauce with white bread and some slices of meat, to Malekith, who had gorged himself on gourmet food and feasted gloriously this meal would have been something fit for a low class artisan in Naggarond, but now it looked in an entirely different light. The mushrooms seemed delicious in the creamy sauce and the home baked bread was still crunchy yet soft. When the Witch King took the first bite, he almost salivated. What was wrong with him?! The inner Druchii screamed.

"How is it?" Tiffania asked and the ancient elf could only nod with a smile of his face as he continued to chew his food. Who knew that this ritual had burned so much of his energy?! Once again Malekith congratulated himself on the foresight of ordering the feast after the ceremony. Immediately the thought ran back to home and all he had lost to just have a chance in this trial in a foreign world.

He wondered what his people would do, but then again trusted Kouran would ensure order reigned in his new empire. The great fleet would be entrusted to Fellheart, who had been instrumental to the success of the Invasion, while Morathi in conjunction with Hellebron would keep a tennous hold over his minions while Kouran delegated and relegated tasks in the day to day rule. He was sure that if he returned within a hundred years, that he would still find the Dreadlords standing in the shrine, surrounded by his Black Guard.

The thought of those treacherous worms impotent in face of his personal army brought a wicked grin on his face.

"It is delicious" he answered as he though how would some particularly rebellious dreadlords skin bound into a journal.

"I'm glad you liked it" Tiffania smiled warmly and took her seat before starting with her own plate. Malekith took a glass off the drink she had prepared, and it was strange, like water, but with flavour. Yet it was not water. What recipe was this?

"What do you call this drink Tiffania?" he asked swirling the glass with reddish liquid.

"Oh, thatsh-" she swallowed her food "That's a kompot of forest strawberries with water"

He had never drunk this before. While it was obviously an inferior drink to wines, ales, spirits or other beverages available to the Druchii, its taste was new. In the ages he had experienced what most beings in the world would dream of, or flee from the nightmares, yet this drink was not one of them. What this more this world would offer him?

"It is a new taste" he said and drank some more. The rest of the dinner was spent in questions mostly about the food and what kind of world this was. There Malekith encountered a glaring problem to his research, Tiffania was rather sheltered and knew nothing of the world outside her own and from what he listened from her and had experienced in his encounter with the human swine, their relations were not unlike those in his own world. Elves were hated and often killed on sight and same was probably for humans.

"How old are you Tiffania?" He asked the Asur, surmising that she was surprisingly young from her lack of experience and optimism while living alone.

"This winter I'm turning seven and ten" she said and all gears in Malekith's head ground to a halt.

17.

17?

17?!

It was blink of an eye for one such as him who had lived for centuries and with a figure like that. Malekith shook his head at his previous designs to the peasant Asur who now was revealed as someone who was considered barely out of infancy to their kin. A child at that age should be with their parents who had to make sure their child was ready to succeed in any endeavor they would choose, be it artistry, craftsmanship or war.

To have such a young Elf living alone!

"What happened to your parents?" Malekith asked tentatively as the subject no doubt was unpleasant as she flinched away from him, yet he had to admit that the girl was brave, her eyes meeting his.

"When I was little we were living happily together and I thought that nothing could go wrong" her hands shaked "Then one day we were discovered" human barbarity knew no bounds, but Malekith realized that this could have been anyone suffering for the raids he and his reavers had launched for millennia across the world.

"My mother, she" tears welled in Tiffania's eyes "She hid me in a hidden passage with a map to this very house"

"It's all because my mother was an elf. I'm sorry" she muttered and quickly fled the room and ran upstairs, not even bothering to hide her tears. As for Malekith, he was left there sitting with another revelation.

Tiffania was a halfbreed. In his world these halfbreeds were shunned for a good reason. High chances of corruption, sterility and diseases plagued these results of unions that should have never been. If any of his people were caught creating such abominations or breeding with the inferior humans, they were punished by fates worse than death.

This led him to a difficult situation. It was his duty as the king of his kind to prevent these terrible unions and smite their misbegotten offspring off the face of the world, but this wasn't his world. This wasn't his people and he hadn't even sensed the taint of chaos ever since he arrived on this world.

As it was evident that Tiffania wouldn't come back down anytime soon, Malekith took all empty dishes and took them outside to wash them in the river. Unleashing a light pulse of magic in the air, he sensed enemies hidden or obvious and sat at the banks of the small river.

The cool touch of water sharpened his thoughts and the Witch King thought long and hard what should he do next. Should he kill Tiffania to be rid of an imagined peril? The thought galled him and ever since his 'rebirth'. His perils, his faults had been laid bare, yet a piece was missing from his memories. There was still a memory of shock, surprise and pain, but no distinct moment that would rend his soul so. This required much though so Malekith set out to prepare his home for tonight.

Runes of protection, rituals of Hekharti and Dhar woven into the magic that he cast. Shadows cast by the setting sun, slithered like snakes and sunk into the grass surrounding the house, while whispered words summoned packs of wolves that howled at the promised prey. In the distance his keen ears caught the sound of claws rending flesh and smiled. The humans would trouble him no more.

If a being wished them harm, then they would have to overpower the Witch King himself as this was a tedious task by itself, the alarms and curses would alarm him of the breach and then hell would reign, but now Malekith wanted a peace and quiet, so he gently sat down at the banks of the river and mediated.

He sat there for hours. Sun finally had set and stars appeared in the sky, calling out to the twin moons. The mid-summer heat that had nothing on the blaze of Ulthuan or the jungle cities of Lizardmen now turned to a light breeze that seemed already too hot for the Druchii, whose cities laid far north in where Chaos was ripe. Malekith sat there and ruminated, his thoughts turning to the vile acts he had committed in his long years of warfare, piracy and statesmanship.

When the witching hour came, son of Aenarion forced himself to look at the most inhospitable part of his mind, where the memories of Millennia that he spent dwelling in Chaos wastes. In mind's eye he relived all the horrors that he had fought through, had endured and somewhat even thrived. Malekith meditated on the what had long passed from memory to see the path to the future where he was back from this strange trial.

Mind of the Witch King was predictable to himself as it always turned back to the nexus of his being, the unseen hand that shaped his entire life, ever since his conception and even beyond that. Morathi in his mind's eye took the silhouette that was familiar and safe, that of a seductive mistress of the Dark arts and subterfuge, one who smiled at him coyly as she manipulated those around for a goal even himself didn't have privy to. He refused to acknowledge the crying woman who he had seen in the shrine as he departed into flames and maybe it was for the best, for what form she took, Morathi was and would always be his mother, but maybe, just maybe his destiny one day would free of her hands, but rather would choose to share it. A willful smile tugged at the Druchii's lips as he willed the fantasy away, he was far too worldly and old to disbelieve such nonsense. Next thing his mind turned to what was his task that Asuryan had left him- saving the elves of this world.

The thought boggled his mind, if elves were uncommon or unheard in the country the half-breed, Tiffania, lived. How was he supposed to find them? This and many other questions clouded the Witch King's thoughts and so he sat in front of the cottage, stripped of his armour, clad only in a poor nobleman's clothes and in a company of a prepubescent half-breed. Strange things had happened, but Malekith had long gone used to them since.

While the Witch King meditated, the half-breed dreamt.

Having cried herself to sleep to keep the memories at bay, Tiffania completely forgot about her guest. In her dreams which were usually ones of nightmares and gentle fantasies. This time it was none.

She dreamt dreams of a sundered island with a swirling vortex of multitude colours. There she saw people like her, tall with fair hair, bedighted in jewellery and swirling tones of cloth. In her dreams these people were now in chains as dark armoured elves patrolled the streets and led them in chains, while in the tallest Palace, stood a diamond spire. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen! In it laid libraries to spend aeons in, yet her dreams didn't stop there, they flew to the very top, where a balcony surveyed the paradise in tangible form.

It was a dark-haired woman, who might have been the most beautiful elf she had ever seen, not unlike her guest. Clad in a black and gold dress that fully revealed her beauty, she growled with frustration as rituals and spells were cast one after another. From what Tiffania could understand that she was looking for someone dear to her as sometimes she looked like she was about to cry as another ritual failed. The young half-elf in her dreams eye floated next her and the cauldron the sorceress had been preparing. In the light of the room, the violet liquid boiling and fuming, reminded the girl of a soup, yet she could feel the magic in it. Just who was this woman?

The blonde girl reached further to look in the cauldron, her own reflection shone back from the potion, and the sorceress had noticed it.

Immediately she chanted and weaved her magic, leaving Tiffania unable to move. As if heavy chains bound her limbs. The woman seemed to see her now and a surprised look appeared on her face, as she approached her closer violent magic rose behind her, manifesting in shadows and creatures of nightmares.

Tiffania screamed and the world turned white.

Without breath, the half-elf girl rose from her bed, heart jumping back and forth in her chest as cold sweat jumped from her brow. Slowly the girl got out of her small room and came down only to see no sign of the other elf. Immediately panic set in as she thought that he had left before she could have asked him to teach her. When she ran out in the dawn, she saw the elf sitting in front of the river, while a gentle breeze blew his hair in the wind.

Quietly she approached him, intent on wanting to apologize for her rude behaviour during dinner, but the second she touched his shoulder Tiffania was once again flung into a dream. She saw horrors committed that made her cry out and want to hide in her home and never come out. She saw children butchered, women forced to do heinous things against their wills. Any cruelty imaginable on this world was lived through her eyes and the worst of all it was that she looked at them from a suit of armour wrought of ensorcerelled metal.

A cool and soothing breeze washed over and a tattoo of an Eagle with spread wings now adorned her right hand.

Beside her Malekith stirred. The male rose to his feet and stretched out in the dawn, completely foregoing Tiffania's presence. He stretched and stretched, exercising the stiffness of his meditation, he turned around to face the girl and once he saw the glowing mark on her hand immediately grabbed it.

"How did you get this?!" his voice was nary above a whisper and the shock in his eyes in turn made Tiffania afraid as she feared that it might have been a curse.

"Y-You were just sitting there and I wanted to wake you up and then I saw the most horrible of visions of Black floating castles and-" in panic the girl started to recount her dreams, yet Malekith silenced her with a finger.

"Shh, it's alright" he said, still holding her hand "What happened after you got that mark" he said, looking at her with his green eyes. Tiffania seemed to calm down a little and pointed at his own right arm that now rested at his side.

"Well, it started glowing and then it appeared on yours too" she revealed this little titbit of information. Immediately he let go of her and raised his own hand in the morning light, where clear as day burned the Eagle Mark with golden light, unlike her own.

He focused for a moment, before his eyes widened and he collapsed on the ground like a puppet with strings cut. Tiffania immediately knelt next to him, and tried to wake him up. Her prodding was of no use as the Elf on the ground didn't wake. She splashed water on him, tried to shake him awake, she even tried her ring on him, but it didn't work.

Tiffania tried to remember what else could she do to wake up the other elf, but only thing she could recall was the memory of her mother telling her about the power of true love's kiss.

There had to be some magic in it!

The half elf hoped that this indeed had been a love of first sight rather than her womanly wiles, Mathilda had told her about!

She leaned down closing her eyes and kissed the feared Witch King of Naggarond on his lips.

Across time and space, in a crystal spire the sorceress grinned as a black tattoo in shape of an Eagle too manifested on her hand. Malekith had been found!

**A.N: So Mommy can't even let her son be tested by the chief god of their pantheon, without meddling. In my experience most moms would do that and try to meddle, but Morathi is known to take an extra step in these measures. Soon the plot will pick up pace, same as it was with Vlad.**

**Have a nice day and gimme reviews!**

**-Spook**


	3. Chapter 2: Tiffania's moving house

_**My Elven warlord can't be this cute!**_

_**Tiffania Westwood needed a familiar, she just didn't know it yet. Who is a better familiar for an innocent elf maiden than a King of Elves? The Witch King, of course! To Malekith at least the trees didn't have eyes and no Chaos Daemons were in sight.**_

_**Warnings: see chapter 1**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own shit except the belief that Malekith is entitled to tendies and Mommy's milkies**_

Chapter 2- Tiffania's moving house

If there was a darker time in the life of Alarielle the current Everqueen of Ulthuan, then it would be now. Her heart rend itself apart as she saw the sundragon of Tyrion plummet into the Sea of Dreams, wings ablaze with black fire as Malekith on his monstrous dragon steed Sepharon magically amplified laughter sounded the death knell of the Asur as the sinister armies of the Druchii assailed the Isles with Atamar itself turning against them and sinking their once proud fleets. Some faint hope remained in her heart, yet her memories of previous queens proved this to be false time and time again. Seeking solace within Isha's guidance, the Everqueen and her handmaidens rode forth in a doomed attempt to stem the tide of the Druchii.

If it had been any other host standing in their way, the Everqueen would have prevailed, but they faced Kouran Darkhand himself and the Black Guard of Naggarond, bolstered by Hydras, Black Dragons and his knights on their cold-blooded mounts. However, if the magic of the Everqueen was capable of dealing with the most of his host, Kouran had another ace up his sleeve. Death hags, sorceresses of Khaine bolstered the Darkhand's forces and it was only a matter of time until her defences broke. She had initially wanted to stay and face her end like an Everqueen, but the most of rebellious maidens had spirited her away from the battle. Mournfully they thought themselves safe and were ready to depart to their wilder, forest dwelling cousins to spare themselves of the Witch King.

Another insidious foe hounded their steps, an assassin cadre of the Morathi, the vile sorceress though herself above dealing with Alarielle herself, so in her stead she sent Urian Poisonblade and the blood crazed killers of the temple. While initially they held fast, the chief killer was aptly named as his poisoned sword and daggers brought down countless handmaidens in such quick speed that even her healing couldn't give them respite from the agonizing death.

Surrounded by her foes and no clear way out, she used a tactic she would have never before. In her desperation she broke and like the craven Witch King she hurled herself into the Realm of Chaos as a last resort.

Yet something went wrong. A power snatched her before she could enter the world of Daemons. Alarielle felt nothing as she hung in the void, her eyes saw nothing, her ears heard nothing. For a moment she herself thought that she was nothing in the horrifying world of void.

Once all hope was lost and she had surrendered herself to Isha's mercy. Tears fell for all her kin, for Tyrion and Alianthra, maybe even for Finubar, as she prayed to all her past lives and future ones so that the Asur would prosper once more despite the victory of evil.

The world around her shattered and the shards of her former prison was funnelled through a shimmering vortex before Alarielle was thrown on a ground before a crowd of human children.

With that begun her days of suffering in this strange world, where human mages were in abundance and elves were looked upon little less than daemons to be scoured from the face of this strange world called "Haggelkinia".

"Familiar" the voice called, and it was one of the chief headaches of this world. It was unsightly to feel particular emotions about lesser races, the potential notwithstanding. What galled her the most about this entire situation was that she had no way of doing her duties to her people and was made a _**thrall**_ to a human girl, playing at the mastery of Dhar. However, it was in name only that she was bound to the mage girl, despite this her living arrangements negotiated with the human magi, Teclis had so loved were adequate. Especially since a human maid was assigned to her service. A rather large room with furnishings fir for a noble, even if by human standards.

However, in her dreams she dreamt of the chosen of Asuryan, who had been spirited away by the Eagle god to save their kin. Suddenly her bondage became a lot more bearable as she knew that she wasn't alone in the world or so she hoped. The Asur were long lived and once the human would die, she would be free. For now, she would have to make her legend known and hope that the champion would find her.

"FAMILIAR!" the little nuisance shouted as she waved her hand in her face. Alarielle sighed and willed away her hopeful thoughts, before addressing the pink haired human in front of her.

"Adress me by my name and title or do not speak to me at all." She spoke gently and calmly, letting her magic seep into her voice, pacifying the mage girl who looked like she wanted to say something.

"Do cease your attempts at punishing me" the Everqueen chided the child, who now had turned red with indignation "It is fruitless as it is distasteful on your part to continue to try binding me to your will instead of trying to reason with me. Or perhaps you are a mere beast?"

Her summoner sighed and sat down across her in silence. Apparently, the human could listen, it was good enough a start for her…

Across inexplicable distance the chosen of Asuryan was having a far more different problem.

The half-elf chit of a girl had fallen in love with the Witch King. In a grand jest imaginable in the most ludicrous fables, the girl believed that he was her true love and the mark of the Eagle god, a soul binding contract between the souls. She had conveniently forgotten that brief moment when he had seen her memories when she meddled with his meditation. It was clear that it was no coincidence or a whim that he was dropped into her proverbial lap.

Tiffania was a legitimate contender for the throne one of the human kingdoms of the nations. Despite the murky memories and the assassins and thugs sent to silence her painted a clear picture for Malekith as he himself was an expert in underhanded plots and a genius when it came to getting rid of his obstacles, Bel Shanaar and numerous ambitious dreadlords bearing the witness in the afterlife. In fact, what had happened to Tiffania's family was a mercy by Druchii standards, if it were him, no one would even remember that they had existed. It was clear that she couldn't remain here with assassins hounding her and even more so with the brand that was imprinted on her and him both.

The magic that coursed through the brand was an intricate spellwork containing so much power that it gave the Dark Elf a pause as it had the touch of Asuryan and who was he to doubt the god's will? Yet it made him uncomfortable for the reasons unknown for he couldn't decipher the intent of the magic that cursed through his right arm.

"Tiffania" the man sighed as he tasted another wonder of her limited cuisine "You know that you cannot stay here." However, the half elf didn't listen to him, instead she continued humming as she continued to cook. It was only fair that she didn't want to face the truth right now, but Malekith couldn't afford right now to be impatient. Standing up from the chair, he slowly strode towards her. The girl immediately continued to cook faster and with a trained eye he could spy the nervousness clearly. This didn't deter him at all as almost immediately he was upon her, his large hands grabbing her shoulders and turning her around to face him.

"Listen to me" he tried to keep the frustration out of his voice as he looked into her wide eyes "The people who killed your mother and father" the Witch King disregarded the flinching "They will come for you again and again. They will not stop until you will be killed."

Tears gathered in Tiffania's eyes and again Malekith remembered that he was dealing with a child. He had no skill in placating girls in anguish that didn't involve dark magic or threats or any positive interaction, well he had in the past but the millennia past had degraded that particular skillset of his. The best thing he could do in this situation was to brush her tears with his marked hand and cup her chin like he would a lover. Hopefully he would not add more fuel to the fantasy of the girl. While he was a prince, he would fit much better as the villain.

"Why?" she sniffled as her big blue eyes peered into his emerald ones with childish innocence and naivety "Why they just can't let me be? I haven't hurt anyone and just want to live in peace."

"You haven't, but you can in the future and this is the threat you pose to whoever killed your parents even if you never would, the threat would remain and I think that even the vilest of men would wish to sleep without a worry" Malekith continued to brush her tears with ancient patience as her body shook in silent throes.

"That is why you must leave with me" he continued "That you may discover why exactly your parents had to die and avenge them" while Malekith struggled to relate to a childish girl, he could without a doubt find rapport with a vengeful heiress.

"Your parents must have loved you dearly" he said and took her ringed hand in his own. The ruby shone with magical power and incidentally it was the only proof they had of her legitimate lineage, even if Malekith didn't have the highest opinion of human society seeing it from her memories. Much like the Empire, yet with a ridiculous concept that prized magic above all others with a religious dogma that was far insidious and cowardly than the Druchii cults.

"How would they feel that their murderers were left to reign free?" he asked, "How would they feel that their daughter has to live in fear and hiding so that their killers do not kill her too?" Tiffania shook her head and the elf smiled rather ruefully, reminded of his own vengeance filled rants before his trials in the realm of Chaos. Patting her cheek, he let her go, yet remained in front of her.

"Your parents deserve justice." Malekith spoke, his voice slightly above a whisper "You deserve justice for what has happened to you, Tiffania. If you wish it, I will be beside you until your parents have been avenged and reclaimed what was rightfully theirs"

Then the Witch King took another step forward and felt her breasts press against his abdomen. A deep red blush showed on Tiffania's face and she started to stutter, much to the male elf's chagrin, who took a step back and cocked his head. In her youth, he would have found her adorable, but even now some part of him, that lingered in the smidgen of what had remained uncorrupted after all this time and hardships felt nothing but elation at this simple innocence.

"I cannot bring them back even with my power, but I can make sure their souls rest peacefully. Just say the words and your kingdom will be yours again! Take my hand and grasp the destiny that manifests before you!" The Witch King of Naggarond urged as he offered her his hand, the violet brand on his skin shining in the sunlight. His eyes were now wild and hungry, like a rabbit before a snake, Tiffania stood there paralyzed.

"I would love to, but I can't!" she said fists clenched at her side "I can't leave this house alone for it would be ruins when I would return. Mathilda would be anguished and sick with worry if she couldn't find me!"

"Who is this Mathilda you speak of? She must be a dear friend of yours" the son of Aenarion spoke as he retracted his hand. Another obstacle to get the girl to join him of her own free will. Malekith knew hundreds of ways to get her to hang on his every word for eternity, but each of them would taint the light that shone from her, one Malekith had become quite fond of in the previous days.

"Yes, she is my big sister! She's very strong and smart, once I saw her make a golem of earth in size the trees outside" the half elf said proudly and then a flash of melancholy washed over her face.

"Where is she now?" the elf asked with mild curiosity and Tiffania rested against the now cold stove "She's working at Tristain's Magic academy" she said twiddling her thumbs and Malekith swore a headache was about to sneak up on him.

"Why don't we visit her first then?" Malekith asked and once more the half-elf evaded his look as she looked around at the small cottage that had been her home for a very long time.

"Before worrying about your home, how about we take her with us?" He offered with a slight smile and the Witch King could almost swear that he could see miniature suns from the depths of her eyes when he mentioned taking it with them. The girl's mouth was agape after the suggestion and then the rain of questions started.

"How are you going to do that?" she rambled "Will you shrink it and put it in your pocket? Transform into a cute animal? Oh, how about-" she wanted go on and on, but a finger on her lips silenced the unknown sorceress, who immediately blushed.

"No, nothing that grand" Malekith reassured her, but instead grabbed her hand and pulled her outside.

Standing ankle deep in the river, Tiffania was clueless what Malekith or 'Mal' as she called him inside her mind, would do as he was walking around her house and tearing up her lawn. What was he doing she didn't know, but for sure it looked important.

"Come here, Tiffa" the elf called her to him with this strange new nickname. The girl happily strolled out of the river and approached the older elf, carefully avoiding all the intricate signs he had carved into the stone.

"I'll let you call me that if I can call you Mal" she smiled and Malekith paled. He immediately straightened out and ignored the comment, focusing his magic to the goal in front of him. The air became charged with electricity. The water ran backwards in the river and the grass seemed alive. Tiffania had never seen such magic and immediately she grabbed the sorcerer by his robes, afraid of what might happen next. Lightning arced from his fingertips and danced harmlessly outside. Then her house started to creak and moan.

"What are you doing?! You'll destroy my house!" she protested and beat her small fists against the elder elf's chest, who seemed little more than amused at her antics. There was an earth-shattering boom and Tiffania closed her eyes almost as on instinct, waiting the inevitable disaster, but her mind and heart told her to trust the strange elf wizard.

Suddenly the creaking and cracking stopped, but the half elf girl was afraid to open her eyes.

"It has been done" Malekith's deep voice like smoky fire rumble in her ear and only then she dared to look.

They were flying!

The house was flying!

Marooned in the air with her small garden and lawn surrounding the cottage, they floated above the treeline.

"We're flying Malekith! We are flying, ha ha ha!" Tiffania laughed with joy as she carefully looked around and ran into the house, to check if everything was alright. Malekith, however, remained outside with a satisfied grin as he willed the mass of rock and dirt to float in the nearest direction of the greatest source of magic in the area. While it was no Black ark, the small cottage worked the same, however it was a hassle to redo the magic barriers that protected the house, but with the abundance of Dhar in the land had helped immensely. As they floated past the town, he could see the human rabble running outside to look at them. Sneering Malekith willed the house to float higher up in the sky and continued to enchant the house to siphon Dhar from the very world itself to keep it afloat. While it galled to admit that he wasn't the most powerful sorcerer of his people, the accomplishment was something to be proud for a little while.

In his head the Witch King's plan was flawless. First, they would make their way to the academy and find the answers that they sought, grab the human woman Tiffania thought her sister willingly or not, before starting her training as a proper sorceress. One that would be completely loyal to him.

For the second time the Witch King manifested truly on the handsome visage of Malekith as his eyes shone with poisonous green light as ambitions once more manifested in his sight. It all would be his. As soon as he thought this, his hand started burning.

"Gah!" Malekith snarled in pain as the brand had turned crimson and dripping blood. Well maybe not everything. The pain receded and the elf glared at the sun.

Nothing would matter once Malekith would get back home. Reclamation of colonies and projects of innovation, he salivated at the progress to be made and once more looked at the untainted world below.

As he walked inside Malekith, son of Aenarion, the Witch King of the Elves uttered a promise

"Just you wait Albion. I'll make your petty wars look like a schoolboy's brawl."

**A.N: You'll probably have to wait some time for an update as I'm playing Total war Warhammer 2 as Lohkir Fellheart and now his spin-off is in the works, taking place in the same universe where Malekith is galivanting around in Haggelkinia and Morathi schemes to get her baby boy back. Leave a comment and you'll make my day a lot more better! Till next time, have a nice day folks!**

**-Spook**


	4. Chapter 3: Maiden and the Witch King I

_**My Elven warlord can't be this cute!**_

_**Tiffania Westwood needed a familiar, she just didn't know it yet. Who is a better familiar for an innocent elf maiden than a King of Elves? The Witch King, of course! To Malekith at least the trees didn't have eyes and no Chaos Daemons were in sight.**_

_**Warnings: see chapter 1, I'm wrecking Warhammer lore as I yet have to read the Sundering series.**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own shit except the belief that Malekith is entitled to tendies and Mommy's milkies**_

Chapter 3: Maiden and the Witch King I

Saying that today had been full of surprises was an understatement. First of all her house was flying!

Much like her former kingdom, the small patch of land she had called her own was now soaring through the skies under Malekith's magic. The elf was still outside, but it was simply amazing how he could achieve this. In her books she had heard of flying ships of Galia and Albion, but those required a lot of the mages to make the sea vessel sky-worthy. Once again Malekith surprised her with his ingenuity and foresight as the older elf made it seem effortless. Giddy with excitement Tiffania jumped in her small bed. Landing with a small bounce in the dune filled mattress she kicked her feet and hugged her pillow.

He truly was a prince like no other! She thanked her parents, her mother particularly, that this strange elf had crashed into her life. With powerful magic, good looks and kindness that made her heart beat even faster whenever Malekith was near, the half-elf had hard time just looking at him and how he worked. A small part of her was little bit envious of how well he could cast magic, unlike her, who could only cast a single spell.

Despite her kind nature and innocence, Tiffania wasn't supid, sure a little oblivious, but not stupid. Malekith was obviously taking her to Mathilda to Tristain's academy of magic, where they would meet her big sister and decide the best course of action after that. Maybe she could even learn at the academy if Mathilda would convince the headmaster! However, soon the girl realized that was it really that necessary if the blonde had Malekith with her? He was an accomplished sorcerer and could use more than one element after all!

Yet despite all of today's excitement and wonder, it had been tiring on the girl. As if her bones were turned to liquid she laid on the bed with her limbs sprawled in all directions, while a small heaving of her chest and closed eyes indicated that she was asleep. After all, who could have so much excitement in one day?

As the young girl dreamt, she was afraid that once again she would see the evil man in the black armour on his great dragon roaring with malicious laughter as cities were rend by his sorcerous might or armies. Black clouds would swarm once golden cities and his ruthless and savage armies would march, ordered by calculated cruelty designed to crush any and all opposition. Skies full of beasts like harpies, manticores and dragons that put the knights of Albion to shame.

However, this time she dreamt of Malekith. In her dream the half elf girl was in the heat of battle, where the dark haired elf was clad in silvery armour that reflected the moon as he and his warriors stared down men and aberrant horrific monsters whose existence itself was an affront to existence. More maws and eyes that should have been possible to fit on a single face, added with limbs and shapes out of demented nightmares, it took the realization that she was in within a dream for Tiffania not to scream.

Yet facing these monsters and savage men, Malekith wasn't alone. With him stood legion of silver armoured soldiers and beside him, a small and stocky creature with white hair and a magnificent beard. The battle was a slaughter and it was there Tiffania saw the full extent of Malekith's magic. He and his mages weaved savage winds and arcane bolts falling from the sky. The creatures were decimated with a single volley, yet the creatures didn't stop coming. Wave after wave they tried to overwhelm the silver warriors, yet always were repelled.

In the midst of the battle she saw Malekith unsheathe his ensorcered sword and charge with his most trusted riders into battle on their shining dragons. The elfin prince cut through the ranks of the damned with grace unparalleled by a mortal man, ducking and weaving through the beasts, leaving severed limbs and pooling ichor on his rampage.

Suddenly he was unseated by a giant crimson claw and Tiffania wanted to scream for someone to help him. Yet in the din of battle no one could help their prince as they tried to stem the demon tide. With blood gushing from his face, Malekith stood up to face the crimson demon, who let out a bellowing laughter and sneered at the elf.

"_**Son of Aenarion**_" the titan rasped as he raised his blade to the elf "_**YOUR SKULL BELONGS TO KHORNE!**_" it roared and Malekith merely raised the sword in greeting, feelings of revulsion bare on his face.

"Come spawn of Chaos, dance with me" he snarled, and his sword lit ablaze, and his emerald orbs shone with sorcerous might.

Then he taunted the demon.

With an earth-shattering roar and span of it's wings the demon barreled towards the elf, who dodged it handily and nicked it in the skin with its blade. The demon whipped around and summoned a flail in its hand that seemed to move with a mind of its own. With wide eyes she watched as Malekith continued to dodge his foe, landing blows where he could and retreating as fast as he could. As they fought the demon got more and more enraged, spewing profanities in long forgotten tongues which Malekith returned with barbs of his own, cheerfully taunting the demon and delighting in it's cries of rage.

Yet it took one slip and as flail hit his chestplate, Malekith was sent sprawling across the battlefield, knocking down a rider that had come to their lord's rescue. The elf rose to his feet once again with difficulty and dropped on all four to dodge the swing of the sword that killed the elf beside him.

"**Son of Aenarion, YOU ARE WEAK!**" snarled the demon as it tried to stamp out the elf with it's black iron hooves. In the nick of time Malekith managed to roll back and get to his feet, but not quickly enough as the hand that once held the flail grasped him.

Grimacing in pain as the beast tried to squash him. Yet with him coughing blood, Malekith had a crazed grin on his face. The demon had lifted him to its face, ready to take it's skull, but then a thunderclap echoed across the marsh where they fought.

A dazzling ray of light came from the skies and pierced straight through the chest of the demon, in it's path severing the hand that had almost squeezed the life out of Malekith. Tiffania was relieved. She had been watching the battle with bated breaths and almost the entire time she was overrun with cold sweat as she watched the dream play out. Was it a dream, however? Her dreams had never been this detailed and in her entire life she had never seen such dragons, griffons or even demons.

Turning back to the dream, she looked at Malekith, who had freed himself of the clawed hand and was proceeding to approach the demon within it's death throes. Without a moments hesitation a spell was on Malekith's lips and another bolt fell from the sky, shattering the demon into dust. In the very next second the demons seemed to realize the death of their liege and were beginning to rout, yet in the distance horns sounded and a fresh force of elves descended on the frightened routed host of demons.

As the battle seemingly had come to an end, the elf wiped the blood on his face and smiled in her direction as if he could see her.

"Malekith!" she cheered and ran up to him. Yet just before she could reach him, his figure had transformed into that of the armoured monster that had terrorized her previous dreams. Now surrounding her was a dark and dreary throne room with braziers burning with purple flames. With his crimson cloak billowing in the oppressive room he stared with her, a goblet of wine in his hand.

"_**Who addresses the Witch King?**_" he asked and the first thing she noticed were his shining emerald eyes. Recoiling as if stuck, she tried to back away from the elf, desperatedly trying not to believe that it really was Malekith, the kind elf who had rescued her and had shown her the most wondrous things. He, who promised her to right the wrongs committed against her. She had fallen in love with him!

"_Now little sorceress_" the time stood still in the room and a husky feminine voice whispered in her ear "_You have seen just who he is. Does it disgust you? Does it horrify you?_" the voice continued to whisper and blew more hot air on her neck, unsettling the girl.

"Who are you?!" she mumbled and the answer to it was a throaty laughter. Now she felt hands on herself, touching and prodding where no one had touched her. Crimson blush spread on her face and immediately she batted the wandering hands away from herself.

"Back off witch!" she said and whipped around expecting to see the invisible offender, yet all she saw was air.

"_Here girl and my name is Morathi_" the voice called from the Witch King's side and with pink smoke a figure materialized. It was the beautiful woman from her dream the other day. Her black tresses held in place with her crowned horn, did little to vanish her appearance as the seductive sorceress she had first seen in her dreams.

"_You didn't answer me little sorceress_" the older woman said and pressed her breasts against the cold steel armour, not seeming to be bothered by the cold steel. Tiffania felt uncomfortable to see the woman acting such wantonly near Malekith, frozen in time they may be.

"Get your hands off him!" the half-elf huffed "Just because that he is frozen in time doesn't mean you have any right to do that!"

"_Oh?_" the woman raised an eyebrow and put her hands around his neck, pressing even more of her bare flesh against his.

"_Why not? We have done so much more, child. Do you protest so much, because you have taken a fancy for him yourself?_" Tiffania was not a violent or particularly angry, but the woman knew how to push her buttons and clenching her fists.

"Yes!" the words spilled from her and like water they couldn't be taken back. Realizing what she had just said, Tiffania gasped and covered her now crimson face with her hands. Sonorous laughter was all that she got from her rival in love.

"_Precious child_" she untangled herself from the armoured form of the elf and approached Tiffania, standing a head taller than herself.

"_Do you even know just whom you have given your heart to?_" she grabbed her cheeks, much quicker than Tiffania could manage to see. Shaking her head with a serene smile, she pressed her forehead against the other's.

"_He is ruin made flesh, made beautiful. Malekith will ruin you if you let him_" she whispered, brushing her cheeks with her long soft fingers as Tiffania stood there in shock at her actions, eyes wide and unblinking trying to process the warnings.

"_But just how glorious this ruin will be. After all due to his actions the elves on our world were sundered_"

Malekith wasn't from this world? All pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall into place for her now, yet Tiffania refused to believe that Malekith was evil. He couldn't be, especially after he had treated with so much kindness.

"You're lying! You just want him to be alone in this strange world so that he would turn back to you!" With ample strength she had left, the half-elf lifted the sorceress's hands off her. Instead of shock a knowing smile appeared on the black-haired woman's face.

"_Am I? Either way I will wait to give you my sympathy after he rejects you. By our standards you are still barely a child_." She sauntered over to Malekith's frozen form and winked at her.

"_Tiffania Westwood, you ought to know that a mother knows her son best._"

With this startling realization Tiffania was woken from her dream. Pit growing in her stomach at what she had just uncovered. Sitting on her bed, she let her tears fall at how the façade of this seemingly perfect man was crumbling before her very eyes. Why was the world so cruel? There was an odd chance that Morathi had been lying, but after the visions of Malekith in his armour, his dark urges and warfare that he had commanded, it was more than likely that the woman was speaking the truth.

Yet Tiffania refused to believe that Malekith would ruin her, that he was evil. If she were to get any answers, then she would do it by talking to him. After all she had no other options left as he was much more powerful sorcerer than her.

Slowly she dressed herself again and with heavy steps left her room.

The half-elf found him where she had left him. He sat outside on her porch, looking at the clear sea of stars illuminated by the night sky. A pensive look was on his face, yet his emerald eyes that now merely glinted instead of it's malignant glow in her dreams that now haunted her every time she looked at him.

"Couldn't sleep Tiffa?" he asked her, but instead of warmth she had once felt when he spoke her nickname like that, she now felt coldness seeping through her bones.

"Y-Yes" she tried not to stutter and took her seat next to him. Malekith raised an eyebrow, before sighing.

"Is there something troubling you?" he turned to her "Do not try to run from it as fleeing from something will not resolve it, merely delay it."

What could she ask him?

'Hey are you a tyrant warlord with no goodness left in you who sleeps with his possessive mother?' The thought of asking this was ridiculous and the response of anger and cruelty would be warranted.

"Why are you called the Witch King, Malekith?" she asked in what was supposed to be childlike innocence yet came out as an accussion. Yet she was right as in the moment Malekith visibly stiffened and tapped his fingers against his alabaster skin. She could see his jaw clench as this particular realization was not something, he had wanted to reveal to her. Yet Tiffania could understand him, even she had pretended to be human to befriend human children, when she revealed her ears, she had to run, lest they lynch her.

"How do you know that title?" Malekith returned a question as he turned from her. The blonde girl put her hand on her shoulder and the other elf recoiled as her very touch was poisonous.

"Why?" was her single question to the Son of Aenarion and he could not answer that.

_**A.N: Sorry for the shorter chapter. Just got my drivers license and with personal nature problems I can't update as often and my passion for this is slightly waning. However, have no fear as I am intent on at least getting Malekith back home. Morathi is the best helicopter parent and best girl to the boot (incestuous tendencies aside).**_

_**Have a nice day, leave a review and I'll try to see you soon!**_

_**-Spook**_


	5. Chapter 4: Maiden and the Witch King II

_**My Elven warlord can't be this cute!**_

_**Tiffania Westwood needed a familiar, she just didn't know it yet. Who is a better familiar for an innocent elf maiden than a King of Elves? The Witch King, of course! To Malekith at least the trees didn't have eyes and no Chaos Daemons were in sight.**_

_**Warnings: see chapter 1, I'm wrecking Warhammer lore as I yet have to read the Sundering series.**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own shit except the belief that Malekith is entitled to tendies and Mommy's milkies**_

Chapter 4: Maiden and the Witch King II

"Why?" was the single worded question that spilled from her lips and Malekith was once again speechless. In this new world he had been free of his prejudice of the Asur and schemes of his mother. Here, the millennia long warfare he had waged on his kindred was meaningless and so were the atrocities he had committed during his reign. No longer he had the duty manage the ruthless nation of killers, pirates and slavers while juggling the scheming nature of Morathi and Hellebron. Despite his banishment at the hands of Asuryan, the Witch King had breathed his first breath in peace with a singular task. Looking in the big blue eyes of Tiffania, his blackened heart felt something that hadn't been there in a very long time.

Shame.

For Asurayan's sake! He felt actually ashamed as the half-elf chit looked at him with disappointment. The organ in his chest felt as it was squeezed by an iron clad hand. What was wrong with him? As the Druchii looked at her he could swear that his mind was playing tricks on him as for a moment she reminded him so of his late wife. Of course, some things were different, like her…bossom or the childlike innocence she approached the life with, but he could imagine Allisara from long ago, yet it only brought him pain as always. Malekith recoiled as if her hands burned him through his conjured robes. Flashing her a look of surprise he turned to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. Her eyes widened ever slightly at his actions, but the Witch King paid no attention as there was something much more important than his explanation of the horror that he had committed.

"How do you know about this?" he asked once more and poured magic into his eyes that made Tiffania flinch back from his gaze, yet the Son of Aenarion didn't stop. He pulled closer, uncomfortably so, that their foreheads were almost touching. Tiffania had closed her eyes and even tears were starting to swell. Did she think that he was going to take her here and now? That he would take a maidenhead of nothing more than a comely child on wooden floorboards against her will?

While there had been times such tactic was useful to crush the spirits of his foes and treacherous minions, the Witch King didn't personally participate in those matters.

"I-I-I…" the girl started to stutter and as if floodgates were open. Tears spilled now freely from her eyes and Malekith could only sigh at her almost predictable reaction, supposedly that would be another thing for him to change once she would gather the courage to ask for his tutelage.

"Do not cry child" he said with as much gentleness he could muster and wiped away these tears on her face. Tiffania stifled a sob and continued to look at him with eyes wide in fearful anticipation.

"If I were as evil as you thought of me no amount of tears and pleading would stop me" he explained, not deigning to mention the fact that ever since he had come to his world his volatile and cruel temper had oddly been silent as if snuffed out completely. Of course, this was also due to fact that there was very little which could strike his ire in the foreign world without trying and while the chit was had lit a small spark of irritation, Malekith could forgive her that given the circumstances.

"W-Who are you…r-really?" she had mustered enough courage to repeat the question and the Witch King knew then and there that he won't be able to make her shut up about the matter without jeopardizing the task at hand.

With a long-suffering sigh, the dark-haired elf began to explain. He started with something simple in which she would relate with.

"My people were usurped on the eve of my father's greatest sacrifice"

The election actually had happened over a decade later once everything had calmed down for normal governance to ensue. It didn't change the issue of itself, however

"After the war people wanted peace and the select few that stole the throne from me believed me to be much like my father- too strong and warlike to be allowed to rule. So, they conspired against me in secret and I only knew of their betrayal too late. They congratulated me on my decision to venture out and found great cities for our people on the distant shores of the world, but it was little more than voluntary exile" The Witch King explained, letting the ire of thousands of years to seep through his very bones. Sometimes it paid off to have the ability hold grudges and recall every wrong done to you with an amazing clarity, especially if one was lying through their teeth to do so.

In her eyes he could see her worry and disgust vane as she slowly took in the knowledge of his private life that he had seldom given to others before. So many friends and allies he had lost, to betrayals, to nature and his many foes, yet whenever he told his past to someone, it was hard to let the memories rest.

"Yet all of my exile wasn't spent in vain. I did found great cities and meet new friends, like the High King of the Dwarves Snorri. Never before had I seen such fury in such a short man" Malekith laughed as he recalled the hunt for the Shaggoth and the herds of the filthy beastmen that dared to encroach on their forces.

"However, even then the pretender tried to rob me of my achievements and claimed the achievement of the friendship of our races as his own, before banishing me once again and Asuryan knows I did not rage against him or plot his demise." Malekith now had made a small ball of purple flame manifest in his hand which he juggled with surprising grace and finesse, making it spin and pivot in the air, his green eyes focused on the flame. With the corner of his vision he saw Tiffania whose eyes were almost glued to the miniscule flame and with a smile on his lips he multiplied them in dozens, each swirling with the colours of the rainbow. The small flames surrounded the world in a spectacle never seen before the half-elf's eyes. A small gasp echoed from her chest and the Witch King continued his tale

"Years later they called me back. I hoped that they had called me to rescind their decision and crown me the Phoenix King, but instead I was called back to clean up their mess once again!" Malekith clenched his fist and the small flames grew from the size of the apples into that of boulders before exploding in a shower of sparks.

"Cults of pleasures and sin ravaged the blessed Isles of Ulthuan and I was called up to quell it while the indolent king and his bootlicker princes feasted and revelled the threat away. I hunted them relentlessly, without mercy and moment of respite. It seemed that my quest was going as planned, then one day I received a missive of the gathering of the upper echelons of the cult. Naturally, I knew that this chance couldn't go to waste."

"What happened then?" Tiffania asked as she drew her attention back from the shower of sparks which slowly died out in the night, revealing the cloudless sky and its two moons. The Dark haired elf sighed and rubbed his face with some fatigue and returned to his tale.

"It was in a hidden temple of Hekharti and Akharti- the twin goddesses, the Hek of Magic and Ak of Pleasure. It was a grand hidden palace, where scented candles filled room with sensuous scents, from mere whiff would make a human catatonic from the pleasure. The cultists naked and writhing like snakes in mating , coupling among soft pillows and lush carpets. An orgy of pleasure and decadence I had never seen before at the time. At the very top of this sensual madness was a throne built on naked suplicants, sat their leader. She was the most beautiful woman I had seen in the world- her face covered with a great golden mask with antlers that would put a great elk to shame-"

"She was Morathi, wasn't she…" Tiffania interrupted and Malekith nodded.

"I couldn't fight there, outnumbered and alone, yet I knew that I had her and if…if I could get her guard down then all of this would come to an end and the possibility of me becoming the Phoenix King was ever present in my mind" he admitted to the elf who listened with rapt attention.

"So I decided to seduce her and of course she saw right through my bluff and called it. In my arrogance I bedded her and when came the time to arrest her, she threw away her mask and unleashed her sorceries upon me. I brought her low after hours of fighting, but then I realized that I couldn't kill my mother, the woman who had brought me into the mire with her and dishonoured the memory of my father so thoroughly. Alas just then she explained why she had founded the cults when I had my blade raised, ready to fell her and then impale myself on the very blade for my sins."

"She convinced you, didn't she?" Tiffania had a small scowl on her face as she hugged her knees to herself and gazed at the stars above her. Malekith saw the discomfort o her face and begun to ponder just what Morathi had shown her.

"Yes" the elfin king knew better not to lie and merely nodded his head with this small gasp of answer, before turning away from her to look once again in the sky. Though with the corner of his eye Malekith spied her drew into her shell like a snail, curling her hands around her knees and sighing.

Deciding that it was best to continue, the Witch King resumed to tell of his fall from grace

"I spared her, and it changed everything. Had I not then nothing would have changed. I would have remained an attack dog, despite the torment I had endured." He faced her and saw the half elf deep in thought, eyes looking far in the distance.

"Would you have done it again?" Tiffania's voice cut through the brief silence like a knife.

"Yes" was the simple answer Malekith gave her and there was nothing else he could have said. These thousands of years the Witch King had spent decades thinking about 'what if's' and despite his mind taking pathways through every single one of his choices the branches of his possible future aided by magic and records did little to provide him with an alternative or better route for elves or himself. If he had forsaken her and did his duty in executing Morathi, he would have been praised lightly, before sent off, lest he impede the rule of Bel Shanaar. In that future Malekith would have fled from the memory of elvenkind by his rivals and ended up completely inconsequential to the future of the world, while the elves would grow fat and decadent, ripe for the picking of Chaos.

Maybe it was his own selfishness, but he refused to be in the wrong. This was where he had gotten and there was great wisdom in never looking back. Casting glances in the past stole the sight of the future.

Cast adrift in this strange world with an improbable task, the sight of the future was all Malekith had.

"H-h-how…can…I…trust…you?" her small voice rang out after the long silence. Turning back to her, he saw her eyes wide with apprehensive hope, tinged with fear.

"You must" he simply answered and offered her a sad smile, reminding how he, himself had often been in the same situation. He saw her sharply breathe in before wanting to say something, but he silenced her with a single finger.

"I may be the dreaded Witch King of Naggarond, Scourge of the World, Bane of Chaos, Master of the Vicious Druchii and the One Who Walked the Realms of Chaos, but I made a promise to you Tiffania" He spoke slowly, leaving nothing to interpretation. He grasped her hands and hastily tore off his gauntlet to show the brand of a golden eagle shining on his hand. It matched hers, softly glowing in the night sky.

"For better or worse, we are bound together"

With a quiet sigh, the half-elf was mesmerized by the brand and it was all that Malekith needed to grab her hand and warm it with a cantrip, sending the heat through Tiffania's body. A blush crept in her pretty features and Malekith knew he had her.

"I'll show you all wonders that can exist in this world and for better or worse by the will of the Eagelfather, who sent me to you in your hour in need is my penance" the son of Aenarion said this pledge earnestly, lying little for here he had no responsibilities ,save those imposed by Asuryan and those were vague at best, for what were these few years on an entirely new world compared that to the mind rending realm of Chaos. With present company a few centuries would pass like months.

"Alright" Tiffania spoke and let her eyes wander away from Malekith to the starry skies that surrounded them

"Alright'' her eyes darted back to him "But I want you to be truthful with me. No more secrets between us Malekith…I mean it!" It was laughable that such chit would deign to command this of him, but then again, he had chosen to involve himself with her.

That and there was a small flame in her eyes that the Witch King realised immediately, being a premium scout of talent of untold ages realised this as hunger. Then he wondered whatever she would have done if he or the assassins didn't encroach or her simple days. Would she have foraged for berries and mushrooms, bathed in river and spent the rest of her days in this gentle bliss.

Completely unaware of the maelstrom of power that slept dormant in her blood.

No, Malekith refused to allow that. She belonged to him. Lessers would use some pretense of nobility, chivalry or need to act in the same manner as he did, the only difference was that the Witch King felt no need to disguise his intentions. He wanted her to be his retainer and guide to this strange world, there was nothing simpler and purer.

He wanted her and he would get her. The King of Druchii wasn't known for giving up.

"I promise ,Tiffania Verdan" Malekith spoke, in his mind already supplying him with more avenues to avoid less than pleasant truths. Duplicity was almost second nature to one as him, but his hand feeling a phantom stab, the elven warlord understood that Asuryan wasn't quite pleased with that statement.

"Verdan?" a puzzled look set upon her fair features and the male elf once again chastised himself as he knew that Tiffania was not of Asur or even Druchii stock, instead of a different elf altogether.

"It means 'of the forest' in Eltharion"

"Oh, it's fitting" she laughed and Malekith was reminded of chiming bells.

"Indeed" the Witch King agreed with a tug upwards on his lips. The previously serious topic was almost forgotten in the eyes of the Child, who no doubt had been apprehensive against him in the beginning, but had failed to realize the slight magical persuasion he had visited upon her. It was benign in nature and was mostly used by the Asur parents to calm unruly children and force them to calm down and be more suggestible, but the spell lost it's usefulness after the child reached maturity and their mind became more resilient to magic. However, Malekith had tweaked the spell to increase its effectiveness.

"What are we doing next? I know we're heading to the academy…" tweedling her thumbs and the dark-haired elf nodded at the question.

"Why, yes. You told me about your sister and it would be unwise to leave her there as your enemies have found you already" The sorcerer nodded and closed his eyes, immediately opening them, now blazing emerald with sorcery and malice as an less than amiable grin appeared on his face, revealing his pearly white teeth.

Tiffania with eyes wide scrambled back from him, but could not as his hand clasped around her own. Blue met emerald, it saw uncontested confidence, while their owner saw fear in the others.

"It seems that they have sent rats with wings to hunt us down, ha!" Malekith let out a sharp laugh and waved his hand in the air. In the distance a flap of wings could be heard.

"What?!" Tiffania shook herself from the brief trance of Witch King's eyes and looked in the distance. Far from them, six gryphons with their knights were flying straight at them, bearing standard of Tristain.

"No, they are Tristain Gryphon guard! Maybe they are here to welcome us?" the half elf said shakily, but Malekith's not amused face and cold eyes told her what her heart knew all along. These men were sent here to kill her and the other elf, because of their blood, no doubt.

"Malekith, they are the elite mages of the royal family, it's a suicide to go against them!" Tiffania plead, for even if Malekith was an accomplished sorcerer, the sheer numbers would overwhelm him!

"Nonsense," the sorcerer barked with laughter and with a wave of his hand the winds against the house started to howl and bark, covering the flying dwelling into a globe of air. Like a shimmering stream of water it enveloped them, separating both elves from their assailants, but the six knights had different ideas.

Gryphon knights were the best of Tristain for a reason, their mastery of the wind magic being triangle tier, threat to peasant levies and lesser mages. A single triangle mage could wipe out a village if no mage was sent to oppose them. They were six, with their ferocious steeds and orders to rend the small house apart, kill the girl and take the ring from her dead fingers. Orders were simple and none would have dared to refuse a direct command.

In tandem the six were stupefied as they saw the house enveloped in sphere of air. Immediately their thoughts were of at least square class mage, which spelled trouble, luckily for them, they only had to destroy the flying object as even the greatest mages were incapable of flying without their mounts. Most likely the girl had found a windstone and with her elven magic managed to rip the chunk of earth out of its rightful place.

With a single command from the squad leader from his gilded white gryphon, the mages released their most powerful wind blades to tear down the shield. Like rocks cast upon the water, the blades sent air out of the sphere and to their eyes the shield seemed to weaken.

"Malekith" Tiffania cried out as the Elf King continued to smirk "They are going to break through!"

She pounded on his chest, drawing his attention to her. He scowled and grabbed her hand, stopping her offensive in its tracks and with quiet voice that sent shivers down her spine explained.

"Watch, childe" Malekith proclaimed with deadly calm as the knights continued their assault. The half-elf hugged his chest in fear, closing her eyes to block out the sight of blades smashing against the barrier and the howling of the wind. If she had opened her eyes, she would have seen the air from the barrier slowly surrounding the knights around the house.

She was still a child, but the Witch King was patient in his quest. This girl would be his second Kouran Darkhand in this world, but instead of Crimson Death, her weapon would be that of Dhar.

Human mages were so predictably brash, the elf though as through his eyes he saw both men and beast inhale the air around them, unaware of what was about to transpire. He could feel how it filled their lungs, nostrils and joined them in blood, how pathetic.

Mages wielding air should have known how to it can be used to their own doom. Shaking his head in bemusement Malekith shook the girl that still clung to him like the heldenhammer amulet humans used.

"Open your eyes Tiffania" son of Aenarion spoke and waited as the girl dared to open her eyes.

"Watch Tiffania" he grabbed her chin and let her look upon the men who sought their doom. Clad in rich clothes and little armour to protect their flesh, they wielded halberds and pikes with gems, acting like magic. That moment the wall of wind thinned enough for them to see them clearly in the night sky and from the shocked expression the men attacking knew this too.

"Heavens belong to us girl, see these apes cast down back into dust where is their place!" Malekith barked and threw back his arm.

The air ignited.

In horror, the young girl watched as fire rose, surrounding the knights and their mouths. Their screams would have haunted her, but she felt nothing as she knew they would harm her with only the reason that she was her father's daughter.

"Let them burn"

She said as she watched flames rise from their nostrils and eye sockets.

"Let them burn"

She said as the gryphons threw off their masters in animalistic panic, seeking to free themselves and seek out water.

"Let them burn"

She said as her last vestiges of mercy died in an inferno, wishing that though these men were evil, their deaths would be fast enough for them not to suffer.

As Tiffania Verdan watched dispassionately as these assassins fell down with their mounts, looking like husks, Malekith smiled. Her thoughts were unguarded and yet there was no need for him to read them. He could see her apathy as the riders fell from their mounts. Yet these warriors had very valuable information of the processes and the Witch King, while many things, he wasn't wasteful.

With a negligent flick of his wrist, the last survivor was flung through the barrier, dousing his flames and landing him before the Elves. Baly singed, once glorious armour was little more than tatters. His breathing laboured and heavy as he clung to his life. Snarling Malekith filled the man with Magic of Dhar, willing it to make the human survive the magic fire that had left him so scarred.

Tiffania was surprised that the burns seemed to vanish from the man's flesh. Eyes popped back in his skull and skin draped over the charred flesh. As the sorcery unfolded so did the humans wits. Screams of pain became gibberish, then sentences and lastly clear precise orders to destroy her home, kill her and grab the ring on her finger. It was as if Malekith had rewound time for this man, who now looked at the two Elves with surprise and horror. No doubt he would have plead for his entire soul to the two, but the Witch King gave him no such chance.

Faster than lightning, his hand shot out and grabbed the struggling human by the head, covering the eyes. The man let out a surprised "what" before he started to scream as once more Malekith's emerald orbs glowed in the darkness.

The King of Elves stood there as his captive screamed, until the man finally fell down, lifeless. He offered Tiffania his hand and smiled at her, gone was the viciousness that killed six of some of the most feared magicians in Tristain, then resurrected another, before killing him again. It was almost too easy for her to forget herself in his entrancing eyes and roguish grin, but now she knew that everything Morathi had told her about Malekith had been true, but the woman had failed to understand one thing.

She could live with that.

So as the stars slowly turned to clouds in the sky the flying house headed towards the school for Magicians, where a certain familiar couldn't sleep.

Alarielle of the Asur looked out of her window with a frown as she felt a spark of Dhar in the distance, much more potent than native to this strange realm. However, it had appeared and vanished as just as suddenly. Still the frown remained and she continued to sit in her vigil, chanting and drawing the spirits to her. If the humans would deign to attack her, they would rue the day.

**A.N: Hey it's me! I'm back and while there is no expected chapters very soon. I'll still try my best. Morathi's plan backfires as expected and Tiffania starts to embrace her companions nature, while Alarielle starts to wonder just who IS Asuryan's chosen. If you have any questions, please do ask them and I'll try to respond.**

**Leave a review and be merry!**

**-Spook**


	6. Chapter 5: In Academic Pursuits

_**My Elven warlord can't be this cute!**_

_**Tiffania Westwood needed a familiar, she just didn't know it yet. Who is a better familiar for an innocent elf maiden than a King of Elves? The Witch King, of course! To Malekith at least the trees didn't have eyes and no Chaos Daemons were in sight.**_

_**Warnings: see chapter 1, I'm wrecking Warhammer lore as I yet have to read the Sundering series.**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own shit except the belief that Malekith is entitled to tendies and Mommy's milkies**_

Chapter 5: In Academic Pursuits

"Wake up fa-ugh!" shouted the child and Alarielle simply willed the drapes to wrap the annoying little human in a cocoon, surrounding her so that only strands of her pink hair were visible from fabric. The elven queen turned from her simple cot and opened her eyes, greeting the warm rays of the sun with a small smile tugging on her lips.

It was a beautiful new day on this world and yet the Everqueen felt great melancholy in her heart, these past days had brought nothing more than the incessant ramble of the human chit who still foolishly proclaimed herself her master, despite the difference in powers, knowledge and even attitude of what was expected of a powerful sorceress. The Asur had tried to gently coax this wayward human from her false beliefs, but it was impossible to make the girl budge.

"Good morning to you too Louise" she bid the girl welcome, showing no hostility in her voice, lacing it. Rather than pity for the human as her mind was so shrouded by her own hostility, desperation and most of all worry. Alarielle wondered just what worried the girl so much but ignored in favour of doing her morning routine of stretches and ceremonial prayers to Isha, before calling forth the spirits of the forests.

"Come here little ones" she called to nothingness, yet the room was slowly filled with small balls of light that reflected the colours of rainbow. They crawled through the windowsill, leaving small trails of light behind them and in a mere moment Alarielle was surrounded by the small lights, pivoting and rotating around her like moons around this strange world. With a gentle smile, the Asur gathered some of the spirits in her palms and caressed them, laughing as these spirits of the forest played with her. However, this finding wasn't as joyful when she realized that no one cared for these adorable forest spirits. It was as if humans were blind to their entire existence. This thought brought sadness to the Queen as theses little creatures were magnificent and friendly, knowing human nature, maybe it was for the best that these little creatures remained invisible to the mayflies.

A knock on the door alerted the woman and immediately glamour was back once again. While she detested the need to cover her ears for the sensibilities, it was far better than to deal with harassment and attempted murder at the hands of these insipid magelings and their pets.

"Who is it?" she called as she sat up from the bed, covering her body with the blanket as she shooed the forest spirits with a smile from her room. Outside the room came a stutter and an explanation

"It's Siesta, Lady Alarielle!" came the sound from the behind the door and with a flick of her wrist the doors opened its locks and let the frightened human girl in. Siesta walked in with the clean sheets and almost dropped them in shock as she saw the Vallerie heiress tied up in the drapes.

"Oh my Goodness!" gasped the maid as she looked between her and the aristocrat, who was acting beneath her station, swearing and cursing as she struggled through the binds.

"Is it alright to keep her like that my lady?" she asked and Aralielle nodded with a smile and beckoned the human to dress her. While it was beneath all of her standards, the woman's hands were rougher than those of elven make, her efforts alone to get the elven woman properly dressed was commendable enough for the Everqueen to disregard her human origin.

With the sun shining through the window it looked that the day would be just fine.

Few miles from the academy a hunk of rock flowed neared. On it, in the little house one and a half elves practiced. Outside on the lawn two large rings were drawn inside one and the other and in the middle clad in a loose shirt and pants the blonde girl panted heavily as she tried to continue the set of actions her repeated.

"This is not how one dances to the Triumph of Asuryan!" Malekith chastised her as he repeated the complex and elaborate series of punches and kicks, body contorting as if made from water, weaving and dancing around the circle.

"See!" he called out to Tiffania, who struggled to keep her body bent backwards as her muscles struggled. With a yelp, the girl fell back on her back, rubbing her hurting calves as some tears appeared in the corner of her eyes.

"I can't do it! How will this help me become a better wizard?" she cried and was immediately confronted by the Witch King, who continued to mercilessly grill her "First you must train the body so that the mind can follow it! I have seen to many mages fall because their body was weak and you asked me to make you strong!" he barked as he started to from the beginning the series of complex moves that looked more like a dance than arts of fighting, yet she had to admit that these sequences pushed her to her very limits.

"Rise up Tiffa!" he commanded her and the half elf struggled to rise from her position. Focusing and clenching her muscles trying to rise up from the ground. The girl felt the burn of her poor abused muscles, yet refused to bow, looking to the other elf, who looked at her with undisguised interest. Now another source of energy was present, the hope from Malekith's recognition and praise, which were some of the most prized things Tiffania would have.

With struggle she rose up and continued the dance Malekith was performing herself. Despite the pain she focused on her magic, feeding on the almost limitless power to heal her sore body and force through the movements.

She rose like a tide and flew like wind; her arms becoming flames of volcanoes and legs the quakes of the earth. With every move, more of her magic came to life, glowing in her blue eyes that now sparked with electricity as the very air charged around them.

"Now you are improving," Malekith's eyes softened "But it was still sloppy. Again!" he barked, and a wry grin stretched on his lips.

Tiffania blanched and nodded, stepping back into her stance and trying once again as Malekith started to chant in his native tongue. He refused to slow down, but no longer the half elf would only watch as they performed. The distance still was incredibly vast for her to catch up on him, but no longer was it unreachable. As they could see the structure of the academy from the sky far, far away, Malekith whistled to the half-elf to take a break from her training, taking a moment to appreciate just how hard of a worker the girl was, how the sweat glistened on her pale skin, the tunic clinging to her body, the peaks of her breasts seen through the fabric. Immediately the Witch King turned, chastising himself that she was still a child by his standards and much too weak to ever be a contender for his affections, yet she reminded him of someone long dead.

Refusing to entertain such thoughts, the Witch King summoned the buckets of water outside near the wooden bath they had carved during their little stop in the morning. If they were meeting the humans who presided over this institution, Malekith wanted to look presentable and clothes never should be worn when one was filthy with their own sweat.'

"Thanks!" The elf girl smiled and went for the towel hanging from the clothesline as the Witch King poured the buckets into the makeshift tub. Avoiding the splashing his clothes, the elf stepped back from the tub and concentrated, slowing the speed of the house. While it was not taxing his reserves, he felt that there was no need to rush their approach to the magic school. Now instead of flying, it merely glided in the blue sky, just below the clouds.

The heir of Aenarion continued to watch Tiffania behind the cover of dying sheets. He took off his own black robe, revealing the white undershirt. After all the sun was almost nigh unbearable as of now.

"Hey Mal!" Tiffania shouted "I'm ready"

Malekith expected many things in his life, but the sight of the half-elf clad in only a single towel appearing made the horrible Druchii turn immediately. While back in Naggarond he wasn't missing debauchery and sights of naked flesh, but those were trained courtesans, killers and whores who flaunted their flash for scraps of power. With them it was crystal clear and yet most likely Tiffania did think nothing of it, judging how shamelessly she jumped in the water, uncaring that the splashing had soaked him also. The Giant of an elf kept his back turned, not willing to discover that while his mind rejected her, his body would want to possess her- body and soul.

"Huh, why aren't you looking?" Tiffania asked and the male elf clenched his fists, damn her innocence. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he tried to explain.

"Well because it is improper to look at others when they are bathing" he explained and realized how lame he sounded. However even the girl herself believe it enough, rising from the bathtub she rested onto it's edge and with one dainty hand pulled at his shirt.

"Even if I want you to?" she asked innocently and Malekith knew that there was no way for him to escape her clutches.

"Especially" he said to Tiffania, who wasn't expecting this response "In our culture it is not proper to display our bodies so brazenly to others, only when a conception of a child is imminent" hearing these words she grew pale and then immediately flushed, before sinking into the tub.

Hearing the splash, the Witch King decided to capitalize on his success of his little lie and turned to his unwitting apprentice with a smile and eyes full of faked desire "If that is what you want, then I would be more than happy to grant this fervent wish of yours-"

"N-No!" the half elf maiden scrambled to the other side of the tub, flushed scarlet "I'm too young to have a child and the world would be dangerous for him" Tiffania explained only then realizing what sort of mistake she had committed and clasped her hands around her mouth.

"So you have already thought of a name?" Malekith refused to stop, when he saw her expression, yet he thought that he had wasted enough time already for the moment and made a note to himself to tease her some more when they had more time.

"Disregard my question but do bathe quickly as we have to get your sister quickly when we reach the academy" the Phoenix King spoke and briskly walked back into the house, leaving the blonde girl in the bath before she could recover from her stupor.

Closing the door Malekith imagined that the he didn't dread this thought or was disgusted with it, merely curious if it was possible, for they were two completely different beings. In his head he went through the motions of this intended visit and started to lightly mediate, opening himself to the Dhar that gathered around him and was guiding him to another, where coincided with this human retainer of Tiffania's that was on the grounds, so that left out the option of decimating the place to weaken this human countries next magical talent until his inevitable conquest.

Strangely his hand didn't burn this time, huh. A smirk was on Malekith's lips.

Alarielle couldn't believe the audacity of these human mages! To have the gall to try and coerce, her a queen to act like a common household pet and do tricks for their princess! She had already informed them of their decision, but of course the reason for this was her damned "master" for the girl was apparently a child of a duke and was expected to become a force be reckoned with, but that was unlikely as the child could only cast faulty explosions from Dhar, which she wielded like the most awful of Druchii.

"Please" the child begged outside her door, once again interrupting her meditation. With a long suffering sigh, she waved her hand and the girl was dragged into the room. Shock clear on her face.

"I-I know I've been annoying and rude" she stuttered, trying to appear brave, but the Asur saw through her, especially her bluff and façade underneath she was a little scared girl, desperate to be something. Alarielle might have understood her and maybe even tried to get along with her, but the sheer fact that she was unwilling to treat her like someone with her own agency, ruptured all of the good intentions from her side.

"I know I have no right to ask this, since I spirited you away from your home" Alarielle now laughed, maybe out of hysteria or the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

"If anything child you saved me" she said morosely, much to Louise's befuddlement. It was not like she did not know her name, just that she hadn't earned her respect to use it.

"W-What?" the poor girl was stunned, but the Everqueen didn't let it go to her head.

"As I explained to your tutors before, I had used my last desperate spell so careen me into the foul realm of Chaos, lest my body and soul would be defiled by the hated foe that had broken our lands with their numbers for the first time in millennia and our guardian betraying us by sundering the our golden fleets. By your interference and that of my gods I am here but let me repeat that you cannot order me around when our powers differ so much!" she told the pinkette the short version the Asur had told the headmaster, even if he didn't believe her. Of course his opinion mattered little to her as she had no love for them like Teclis did.

"What did you want of me? Previously you insinuated me to be a cheap pet for your whims, but let us see if you can word your request better this time around." The sorceress crossed her arms and waited for the child to make her request, if she did it reasonably, who knew maybe she would even oblige.

Something flashed in the eyes of this young girl and underneath the bratty exterior and complexes miles deep, there was a steel to her. She balanced her composure and looked her in the eye directly and spoke softly, yet with unflinching ambition.

"I, Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, third daughter of Duchess Karin, runic name "Heavy Wind", I beg you Alarielle, the Everqueen of the Asur beg you, my superior in magic, to lend me your power for this day. The princess is my childhood friend and if I impress her, my family will spare me the disownment or the punishment of becoming a nun. I once more implore you to help me attend the familiar ceremony, not as a familiar, but as a fellow mage to show our world that you are a force to be reckoned with!" Nearly out of breath Louise finished and Alarielle was impressed as she did show her a great deal of humility, whilst her words were careful enough to treat her with the proper reverence, maybe she would have passed the trials when first a noble scion of the Asur would start to learn their customs.

At age of ten years.

"What exactly did you have in mind?" She asked and Louise was silent. The Everqueen could already see the girl thinking and overthinking what she had asked of her. A little bit of pride surged through the elf and maybe she could now see what Teclis saw in these little, short lived beings. Beings whose time on their world was too short to be used in nothing but grasping at things, they elves, took for granted.

A smile graced the features of Alarielle as she listened to just what Louise had in mind, as the child started to recount her ideas for the exhibition. Outside the room Siesta waited, listening to every word and vowing that whatever was needed she would do to help her after she had been saved from the lecherous Count.

Looking at the clock at the end of the hall, the maid saw that the time was nearing for the exhibition and risking reprimand, barged into the room. Sending Louise into an ungovernable rage and making the elvish woman merely to raise an eyebrow.

"Hey, maid" Louise hollered "You just can't barge in here! I should have you punished for it!" and crossed her arms over her underdeveloped chest.

"But you'll be late, my lady! The exhibition in due in less than ten minutes!" She said bowing and this time it was Louise's time to scream as she couldn't afford to miss the event. Bolting straight up from chair, the girl grabbed the hand of the Everqueen and rushed out of the room as fast as her little legs could carry her. It certainly looked comical as the height difference between was huge and Siesta wisely kept her mouth shut and looked at the somewhat tidy room and was glad that she had little to tidy there.

Louise and Alariell blanched as they saw the already sizeable crowd that had gathered between the pavilion where the familiars and their masters waited. The older students saw Louise and started their usual jeers, but somehow their lips couldn't move, as if sewn shut by some invisible force that accompanied the strange duo. With quiet grace the elvish woman walked behind the rushing human and somehow everyone in her path gave her way as if not by their will. While Louise had to elbow and kick to push through, the Asur required no such barbarity to get her way. Soon both were in the pavilion and with little curiosity Alarielle gathered in her eye the present familiars. Some were little more than harmless animals, while one blue haired girl had managed to summon a dragon, naturally it was nothing like Tyrion's noble comrade, but much more impressive than anyone had, well except her.

There both girls waited until a redheaded girl with big breasts and small blue haired girl approached them. It was clear that she was envious of both, but different reasons, yet both were beneath her notice.

"Hey Zero" The redhead called and it was enough to reverse all the progress she had with the pinkette, who now had stormed over to them. Alarielle sighed and patiently awaited her turn.

As she stood there the concentration of Dhar came closer and closer, just hovering outside her range of influence. It frustrated that whoever was capable of marshalling such force to rival her was just outside of her influence. She knew not what they were for, but once she had made her statement, then the Queen of Asur would find them. Hope in her heart had died as she now realized that it could not have been Tyrion, for if he had his prowess with a blade and tactics, he was no mage, that honour belonged to his brother.

Now steeled her heart and having lost all hope, the Everqueen knew not what to do, except to find this strange man and then see just what Isha and Asuryan had given them.

"Now presenting- Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière" the announcer called "Runic name- Zero!"and immediately Louise scrambled back to her side, before nodding her to follow. Alarielle pinched the bridge of her nose, Isha help her!

She walked out of the pavilion dispelling her glamour that appeared like a shower of sparks, revealing her pointy ears and glowing eyes. Silence reigned in the exhibition, not because of any spell, but simply because they were stunned. Everyone, except the headmaster who regarded her with a glare.

"My noble ladies and lords" Louise spoke loudly "I present to you not a familiar, but a queen of Elves!" Shouts started and both master and the familiar paid them no heed.

"She has agreed to show you here a sliver of her might" Alarielle thought her invocations and raised her staff high in the air "Yet which is above those of anyone gathered here!" she shouted and all hell broke loose as roots underneath the ground tore up the wooden floor. Like tentacles they weaved up and up, swirling and freezing. Making steps, armrests and finally a throne that would tower even above the stands where even the Queen herself sat.

Even Louise hadn't expected this, the Everqueen smirked and with another wave of her staff, the throne bloomed. Colours of all over rainbow blossomed over the throne, covering the dark roots with flowers and soft leaves. From the soil multiple figures rose, made from wood these creatures vaguely resembled the Valkyries of De Garmont heir, but they looked more fierce and wild with their gnarled weapons cast from wood and stone, dripping with toxic sap.

"I give you the Asur Everqueen, Alarielle the Radiant!" finished Louise and no one could say anything. But how could they? The elf had scoured through the library and found the human magic lacking. She knew that some would accuse them of heresy, but with such powerful ally in their corner , none would doubt their power. Even the Human Queen was mute, yet unlike others, her face showed childlike surprise at the magic seen before her.

With the silence reigning in her makeshift court, Alarielle relaxed in her throne, yet a shadow slowly had come over her.

In the air, on a chunk of earth and stone flew a cottage. On a rock stood an elf with black wild hair and flowing black, coat while an elven woman waited in the background clad in a blue dress. From her position she could only make out his glowing jade like eyes.

"_**Alarielle of Asur!**_" The stranger bellowed in his magically ensorcerered voice and clouds gathered overhead. A pit in her stomach grew as the realization started to dawn upon her. As the thunder behind him cracked a demonic visage resurfaced in her mind that had haunted ever since she had first seen Tyrion. He lacked the monstrous visage of steel and his hellish dragon steed but she could recognize that vile rasp of Eltharin anywhere.

"_**It seems that Asuryan has given me the Everqueen on a golden plate! Who am I to spite the Eaglefather's generosity?!**_" Behind him a spectral visage of his demonic former visage formed in the sky and Lightning started to strike around them as the winds started to howl.

The house landed with a thud on some hapless bystanders and immediately a blazing ring of violet flame enveloped the edge of the dwelling and from the flames stepped Malekith, clad in his horrendous armour, Destroyer in his right hand and his left ablaze with foul flame. On his head blazed the circlet of wrought iron.

"_**This time I will avenge Finubar and make sure that the Phoenix King sires the next Everqueen!**_"

Behind him, through the flames she could see the elf girl, on her knees, face streaming with tears and muttering hopelessly. Alarielle had heard of his escape from the Realms of Chaos, but this time she would make sure Malekith would not return to dominate their kin.

The last Everqueen of the Asur raised her staff which crackled with energy and her minions stood their ground rising their weapons against their eternal foe.

In the pandemonium one thing was clear, war had come to Haggelkenia, from another world bringing its fiercest conquerors and sorcerers.

As the Witch King started his own invocation of destruction, a single thought invaded his mind. Sorrowfully, in canopy of two voices they asked a single question

"_Malekith, why?_"

The mark of eagle on his hand had now turned red and depicted a scorpion, posing to strike.

**A.N: LEEET'S Get REAADY TO RUMMBLE! In the ROIIGHT CORNER We have the certified Motherfucker and daemontamer Malekith the Eternity King, who has come to his fight to snag half elves and kick ass, but he has already snagged his half elf! In the LEEEEFT CORNEEER is the Queen Bee of the Asur, Alarielle the Radiant, the Elf Sufragette to lead where her pussy of a husband fears to tread, banger of heroes this lady is no damsel in distress!**

**Next Chapter: What's up with Mal? Why is Tiffa crying? And why did I start to rack up the body count so quickly?**

**Have a nice day, leave me a comment to tell me how I'm doing and now I'm off to write about vampires again! (20****th**** reviewer gets a reward!)**

**-Spook**


	7. Chapter 6: In Academic pursuits II

_**My Elven warlord can't be this cute!**_

_**Tiffania Westwood needed a familiar, she just didn't know it yet. Who is a better familiar for an innocent elf maiden than a King of Elves? The Witch King, of course! To Malekith at least the trees didn't have eyes and no Chaos Daemons were in sight.**_

_**Warnings: see chapter 1, I'm wrecking Warhammer lore as I yet have to read the Sundering series.**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own shit except the belief that Malekith is entitled to tendies and Mommy's milkies**_

Chapter 6: In academic pursuits II

Kouran Darkhand was not a man with quick temper. Those who knew the grim Black Captain of Naggarond, knew that the dark-haired elf was not one to be trifled with. Thousands of victims and 17 separate challengers could attest to this fact, but however, only Eresh Khial, the Pale Queen would hear them.

For this disposition and loyalty, coupled with efficient cruelty, he had been picked as Malekith's right hand and now during his liege's latest stunt, the captain now had been raised to the status of DreadGuard,a title only second to that of Witch King himself. While many would have been ready to climb over a mountain of corpses, Kouran would have given over the position freely if he knew it would fall into safe hands. Across the ocean Hellebron and Morathi bickered, both women sent back with their own forces to their respective cities, while this sentiment could be weathered.

Trustworthy was not how one would describe Morathi or Hellebron, but with this tenuous balance based on their rivalry, he could get some breathing room and Shadowblade provided to be an indispensable asset to manage the sorceresses in secrecy.

All was quiet on Ulthuan as the first stages of Malekith's grand plan of uniting the Elvish folk. Standing from him makeshift throne in the former tower of Swordsmasters of Hoeth, Kouran approached the balcony, nodding to his bodyguards to open the door. Having stepped outside, he looked across the inner sea to survey the white tower of Phoenix King that remained empty, save the two personal handmaidens of Malekith, whom the Hag Queen had left in a hurry when she returned to Grond. With regular patrols both by the assassin's remaining killers and Blackguards to make sure nothing was happening without his say so.

Past the gleaming tower and shrine, past Felhearts Black Arks glinding across the Sunset Sea, the eyes of the warrior were drawn to many little lights across the shorelines and deep into the mountains. With the gruelling war won, these past weeks of rebuilding were going without a hitch in his humble opinion. Reeducation camps were in full swing and were quick to weed out the adults who resisted. Of course, they were many, but hopefully the children would be raised to be loyal to their liege and abandon the treacheries that poisoned the common folk for thousands of years.

"Bring me my goblet" he grumbled to a captured maiden of the Everqueen, a rare one who had survived Shadowblade's trap. Dark iron manacles hung loosely to her wrists, while she herself was dressed in her full armour save the tacky helmet- a testament of their victory.

Any lesser Druchii would have trusted the slave and have her prancing around in skimpy armour, but Kouran Darkhand was far above all of them, maybe save few exceptions.

With little fanfare the redheaded elf left and after a moment returned with a pitcher and goblet, both brimming with the best wine that the Kingdom of Eataine could offer. Taking the goblet, he examined it with a careful eye and snapped his armoured fingers.

Into the room two guards dragged a small child, no older than ten summers of age and completely traumatised, judging by the terrified expression on her face. The female elf remained impassive as the small thing was brought before the grim form of the Black Captain.

"The goblet, Meiriel" he beckoned with his outstretched hand and with dispassionate frown looked at the elf, who gave him the vessel, the slightest twitch of hand betraying nervousness. To Kouran it was just a waste, like all of this resistance. He held no hate for his foe, just a disdain for wastefulness and futility that barred their ascent. Looking at the small child, he flashed her a the most calming smile he could and beckoned her.

"Come closer little one" the man beckoned her, kneeling down to the girl's eye level. With quiet silence the scene played out, with the small child taking her little steps towards the warrior.

"How was your day?" he asked and the elfling stopped in her tracks, one of the black guards gently pushed her forward. Flashing an apprehensive look to the guard, who nodded towards Kouran, she continued to approach him.

"Lord DreadGuard" the child attempted to curtsy "It was great, the nanny showed us how to make pretty l-lights" she explained, and a small ball of light lit up in her palm. the Druchii smiled and offered the little girl the goblet.

"It must have been daunting to make such a light indeed" the little girl took the goblet with her two hands "This here is a powerful drink to restore your powers" he motioned to her.

"Drink childe"

The child looked apprehensively at him and Meiriel, whose features were as if cast in stone. Putting the little goblet to her lips, the elfling drank. With dark curiosity Kouran watched as she tenuously took a sip of the sweetened wine.

"Was it delicious?" he asked and much to everyone's relief she nodded. The captain patted the child on the head, before sending her back to the guards. The two armoured figures bowed lightly and the child tried to mirror them with little grace, albeit unsuccessfully, but amusingly.

Within a second all of them were gone from the balcony and Kouran was left with his wine and his slave. He took a hearty sip, while the captive handmaiden looked at him with burning hatred. At this the Black Captain merely raised an eyebrow after emptying the container. Smiling he offered the Asur the empty goblet.

"After only one child you have learned not to try to poison me" he noted and turned his back to her. The Druchii could hear her teeth grinding. Looking at her he could see that she was about to throw the golden pitcher at him.

"Remarkable, so you can learn" he noted with some amusement. However, this time he didn't get to continue his little monologue as no longer Meiriel remained silent.

"You are despicable ,Druchii scum" she ground through her teeth and yet Kouran's answer was a mere risen eyebrow and a light smirk.

"I would ask you of how you dare to sacrifice children to make me submit to be your trophy, but like your depraved master, the depths of your corruption know no bounds!" she snarled at the Black Captain approached her and took the pitcher out of her hands, his purple eyes piercing hers from above.

"You know this resistance is futile as we hold your vaunted Ulthuan in our gasp. Would it be so hard to admit defeat and join the new order?"

She spat on him, the spit landing on his cheek "Never!" she barked with rage filled eyes "Your kind has been driven from Ulthuan time and time again and we will scour the world from your taint, you trai-"

Before the woman could finish her sentence, Kouran had backhanded her across the room, sending her crashing into a small table full of books and scrolls. With texts littered and broken wood surrounding her the handmaiden groggily rose from the ground and grabbed the broken table leg.

"I sometimes question my decision to spare you, Asur" the Black Captain spoke as he wiped the spit from his face with a white napkin. He took a look at her, bleeding and armed with a stick and shook his head.

"Some perverse idea of punishment? To keep me like a shackled animal while you raze our very existence around us? To leave me untouched while your hosts pillage and rape with no end in sight?! " she ground out with laboured breaths.

"Yes" the Captain nodded "I keep you as my trophy, knowing that each moment you spend untouched and unharmed is that because I bade it so. Having you here like an ornament is exquisite! It is only comparable to sampling finest vines with His Majesty himself! However, the concern of your chastity that you brought to me is of most import" a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth "Maybe this issue should be dealt with. Say how does the thought of the Everqueen's maidens and Phoenix King's Black Guard union of flesh sound to you? I think the results would speak for themselves! What do you think, O fair captain of Alarielle? Would children from our union inherit mine or your enchanting features?"

The shock, the rage, the indignation was all clearly seen on her face. As if frozen in time Kouran could see her teeth revealed in untamed snarl, ready to pounce at him, while uttering most imaginable of curses, but after all, He was Kouran Darkhand and she was centuries too young to scratch his armour.

Instead of attacking her enslaver, the former handmaiden of the Everqueen received a goblet knocking against her forehead and downing her once more. This time she didn't get up.

The warrior shook his head and snapped his fingers and soon enough two shades appeared behind the columns of the balcony.

"Bring her to my chambers and chain her in the corner next to the bed" He ordered and turned from them "However, if I find her further damaged, your skin will become my new banners"

"M'lord" was the only acknowledgement from the Shades before they left the balcony with their package in tow. With silence returning to him, Kouran listened to the lull of the waves. It played gently on the surface, rising and falling. It truly was a beautiful night, he didn't show it, but in his heart, there was a certainly a part of him that welcomed the change of pace after the conquest.

The vision which Malekith had shared with the bodyguard was truly something to behold.

However, the dreams of vision realized was put on hold as a violent red light rose from the Loremasters tower. The captain immediately downed his wine in a hurry and uttered a prayer to Khaine violently, before leaving. He cursed and cursed himself again for failing to check if truly the sorceresses had gone from the tower. Of course, they would have bribed the dreadlord tasked with the task or cast glamours to trick them.

Kouran promised himself that heads would roll.

Onto the very top the tower a crimson glow rose in the sky, makings of a great and terrible spell. Immediately the Captain knew that it would be Morathi who could command such dark forces, especially after their triumph. Snarling and cursing again he raised a talisman, gift of Malekith himself and summoned his own trusted black dragon, one of Seraphon's surviving brood.

As the ferocious roar echoed in the distance, the Black-haired elf continued to watch over the spell that was taking place. Destructive tendrils snaked across the land, like violent bolts of crimson lightning first were stuck the shrine of Asuryan, which with its golden glow resisted the magical assault. However, it seemed that the Hag Queen had realized this as another serpentine tendril cut through the skies of Ulthuan, undoubtedly towards the Shrine of Widowmaker. Roaring ferociously the black dragon Gorthaurion descended from the skies in front of it's master, it's venomously green eyes shining with joy at the upcoming massacre.

"Old friend" The Viceroy addressed the great beast "Let's do your kin proud, shall we?"

With what could have been interpreted as an agreement, the dragon roared, and a wry smile appeared on Darkhand's face. Summoning his halberd to his hand, another boon of his service, the deadly weapon in his hands, the short swords on his hip, the elf broke into a sprint, before jumping from the rails of the balcony and unto the back of the dragon, grabbing it's reins tightly. Roaring loudly the dragon flapped it's wings and flew higher into the air, heading straight for the Loremaster's tower. Behind him multiple flaps of wings could be heard.

Turning his head back, Kouran saw sorceresses on their manticores, staves raised intent on spelling his imminent demise, but these women despite their numbers only had manticores, whereas his dragon was one gifted by the Witch King himself, as his faith in the Black Guard and it's captain! He wouldn't let these worms best him!

Soaring high in the sky, the dragon and it's rider swiftly changed their course, knowing that it would put them into the crosshairs of the assassins. Their bodies tensed, in history very few riders had become bound to their dragons, making the beast an extension of themselves, achieving agility unparalleled.

Opening it's maw, the dragon let out it's deafening roar as it dove straight for it's prey.

"Bring their heads to Khaine Gorthaurion!" the deadliest Dark Elf soldier roared as the dragon's breath spew through it's gargantuan maw, bathing the lesser beasts and their riders in acid. He could hear the screams and the stench of melting flesh. Out the corner of his eye, he saw another squad of riders approaching them, staves already glowing. Kouran cursed, he was now flanked by the riders and there was too little time for them to change course, if they could avoid the damage.

Suddenly another roar echoed through the air and another blast of acid enveloped these new attackers. As one of them tried to flee, the sword like teeth grabbed the manticore and flung the woman to it's doom. The elf looked at the beast that had come to his help and with relief he honestly smiled at the sight of the other dragon.

Seraphon had come to their aid and it was well known fact that if Malekith's dragon wanted to stretch her legs, no one was stupid enough to try and stop the ornery beast. Taking it as a sign of favour of the Eagle-Father as much as he had shunned him in his service, Kouran yanked on the reins and the dragon roared, not wishing to be ordered like a beast of burden.

This gargantuan dragon flew over the Black Captains head and with a mighty roar flew towards the tower and he had no other intention, but to follow and stop whatever was happening on top. In his gut already he knew who had dared to disregard direct contingency orders of Malekith himself.

Of course, it had to be her.

Kouran, in all his years of service had tried countless times persuade Malekith for stronger control of the Hag Queen, but to reasons unknown of them, his liege and lord had rebuked him every time, citing her arcane prowess and how embedded she was with her servants. Not this time, now that Malekith was out of his way, he could prove himself right and save the elves from her menace. Her decadence had ruled them long enough, he supposed.

Levelling the Red Death at the peak, he roared a battle cry and the guided the dragon to join his mother.

It was a not an unseen sight of these past days as the two dragons soared over the tower , their claws gripping the walls with considerable force, their roars echoing across the tower. What Kouran saw didn't surprise him at all, if anything it proved him even more correct in his assessment and steeled his resolve. The King's Mother would die today, there was no doubt about it.

Morathi stood in middle of a glowing ritual circle formed by sacrificed human slaves, their dirty blood staining human white steps, while her cultists surrounded her and offered their own lifeblood. Even if it was of Asur make, it was not right to bring cattle onto the sacred Isles of Ulthuan. The enchantress was chanting something in long forgotten tongues, only thing he understood was the prayer to Khaine and Malekith's name.

Praying quickly to Khaine and Ereth Khial, he leapt into the battle for his sovereign's soul.

Dragons were peculiar beasts and bonded with their riders extensively, Gorthaurion was no different, having inherited Kouran's fierceness and pragmatic cruelty, as much as the acid spewing beast could allow to and as if heeding his master's thoughts, the Dragon released an acidic miasma upon the now alert cultists, who still overcome with extasy of the performed ritual couldn't move and were swallowed by the green mist, while Seraphon merely watched, as if to decide whether or not to join in the battle.

As the miasma cleared and the decayed bodies of cultists crumpled on the ground, leaving Morathi alone in the still working ritual circle, who had successfully managed to dispel the Dragon's breath. Turning to face Kouran, Morathi twirled her own halberd Darkrender behind her and with a furious jeer addressed the Black Captain.

"Do you know what you have brought to ruin you fucking idiot?" She roared, pulling back any veneer of seductive beauty or grace she presented to the outside world. So, this was how Malekith knew her behind closed doors.

"You disobeyed your son's orders" the Captain said calmly, while approaching sorceress, blade within reach. It almost surprised himself, how long had he managed to stay alive.

"Morathi, out of my love for my King and his dream, I plead you one last time to cease and travel to Grond" He said, but both of them knew that this would have never worked.

"You fool" She hissed, eyes glowing mad with sorcerous might as the marble beneath her feet cracked "I am the only one who can save him, the gods can't be trusted!"

Kouran smiled sadly "But what of Malekith? Do you not trust your son? The second man you have ever loved in your wretched life, one whom you have tried to mould in your image, do you not trust him, my lady?" He readied the Crimson Death.

"Do not speak to me about love" if she had not been angry before, she was steaming with rage right now and the captain could swear that the skies themselves darkened even more.

This was how THE Captain of the Black Guard of Naggarond would face his doom, fighting for his King and his dream.

As Kouran Darkhand sprinted forward a true smile was on his face.

Hopefully King Malekith would forgive him this misshap.

In another world the Witch King unleashed his full magical might on the Everqueen. Tongues of fire and bolts of lightning fired around Malekith as he deftly pushed aside all defences Alarielle and the human mages would throw in his way. As if absorbed by his very being, these pitiful spells had nothing to him.

Behind him in the fire, Tiffania Westwood was crying. While she had known of Malekith's tendency for violence and his sordid past, it was nothing of what was happening now. This senseless slaughter, mayhem and terror his being exuded, battling what was one of his people. Mal wouldn't do it! He was a hero, a prince, who would bring her back to her people, not this beast of fairy tales.

Oh why this had happened? Barely moments ago they had been joking and he was telling of his adventures with the Dwarves, when suddenly a cold chill had appeared on her skin. While nothing had changed, she had started to shiver and Malekith's own eyes had been glowing. At first she had thought this simple magic, but when he had addressed the beautiful elven woman, she knew that there was something wrong with him. No longer he was cheerful and gentle, instead he had turned bloodthirsty and cruel, clad in his midnight black armour from her nightmares.

As she saw the slaughter there was nothing she could do, trapped as she was in this ring of fire. Through the orange flames, she saw Malekith becoming a whirlwind of magic and violence, moving almost faster than her eye could see, cutting and burning through all challengers even as the earth itself tried to destroy him by the behest of the elven sorceress. With bated breath she looked on as Malekith used the same dance he made her do by dodging the weird earth golems and kicking them apart with brute force as he had told her. What was more impressing was seeing him freeze everything around him and send it back to it's casters.

How horrible it was to see children, like those at the orphanage dying as they attacked him. Tiffania prayed that most of them would choose to flee, lest they became victims of the Witch King's rampage.

Through the flames she saw Mathilda on her earth golem trying to leave the battlefield and the half-elf couldn't take it anymore. She would save her sister or die trying, there was no in-between, however, soon she found herself facing a major hurdle. Malekith's flames were blocking any possible exit.

Immediately she recalled his lessons in manipulating the nature and with much luck, there was enough water into the tub to douse the line of fire and allow herself to escape her prison.

"Please work" she muttered and willed for the water to rise, instead it merely rippled, causing the young girl to cry out in terror as she imagined Mathilda one of Malekith's victims.

"Work, please." still the water did not rise and she continued call for it, yet no magic could be sent forth. Tiffania had then recalled a tale Malekith had told of the wise Eagle god, who would look over elves wherever they may have roamed. Tears started to stream from her eyes as her actions still had no effect

"A-Asuryan, p-please heed my prayers. I wish to save my sister and my friend. He is overcome by strange madness, please Eaglefather. Malekith believed in you, I want to believe too" she offered her prayer to the strange god and continued to attempt her casting.

"Work god damn it!'' she called and to her surprise the water started to spill over the edges of the tub and as if willed with a mind of it's own the water attacked the fierce flames, causing smoke to billow until there was nothing but the burnt line of grass left. Grabbing the hem of her dress, she ran after her sister.

Mathilda hadn't gotten far as she used her golem to protect herself from any stray damage as Malekith's rampage was aimed at those who attacked him, stood in his way or was the blonde elven woman and Tiffania was oh so happy that she was alive, but now the hard part would be her to convince the older girl to come with her.

"Matty!" she cried as she saw the other girl, who immediately turned to face her, but instead of the happy reunion she slapped the half-elf as her own tears streamed down her face.

"You idiot!" she cried as she hugged the dazed half elf "What in Brimir's hairy ballsack are you doing here?!"

The half elf brushed her own tears away and rubbed her stinging cheek "Believe it or not, but we came to get you…"

"We?!" to say that Mathilda was surprised was an understatement.

"So you're telling me this mad elf sorcerer, who has almost destroyed the academy is your guide?!"

Tiffania now had the decency to blush "yes, but something came over him I don't know what! If we don't stop him, he'll kill that poor elf woman"

"What about her?" Mathilda barely contained her irritation at her adopted sister, who still hadn't let go of her. The blonde girl was looking in her brown eyes with strange determination.

"They are family and I refuse to abandon them."

"Oh, so you know" the green haired woman spoke quietly and Tiffania knew that she had done it not out of cruelty, but because she had wanted to protect her from the cruel world that lay outside and she had been right.

"Alright" she sighed and Tiffania smiled widely, but Mathilda was still sceptical "But how do you plan to do that?"

The elder sister took one more look at Tiffa and already dreaded the plan she had come up with.

Alarielle cursed herself that she had become so comfortable in this new world. As another hapless golem was rent apart by the Witch King's malice, the Elven Queen started to think that maybe she should have paid more attention to the training her captain had offered her, as her foe showed, just how devastating a sorcerer trained in magical arts could be as Malekith made short work of all that opposed him.

She was not surprised at his might, for the if anything, Aenarion's bloodline ran through his veins for better or worse and her hated foe was if one would have melded Tyrion and Teclis together, then turned them cruel. Yet The approach the Tyrant of Naggranond took while battling her minions and deflecting her magic was far more than that of common Druchii savagery. There was a method to his madness and yet with all the magic of her line and that of Isha, she knew that this was not enough. The longer she kept him at bay, the more she felt her powers taking toll on her as it was not a common sorcerer or a champion of the foul gods, but as if an entire mountain was pushing on her barriers and with each destroyed golem it was harder and harder to create a new one and as terrifyingly as it sounded, it would not take long for Malekith to break through.

"Alarielle, who is he?" an out of breath Louise and another girl, who was apparently the heir of human kingdom had huddled up next to them.

"Louise, what are you doing here?" she didn't dare to allow these humans see her in obvious state of distress

The foolish human was about to say something, but the princess interrupted her "We came to aid you lady Alarielle against this brute as this attack on the Academy is an attack on Tristain!"

It was adorable that these little children thought that they could stand a chance against the sorcerer that was older than their entire civilization. Gently Alarielle rebuked the two girls with a wave of her hand

"This man is the scourge of my people and much older than the faith of Brimir. The Witch King Malekith is beyond your approach. Leave and save yourselves, this is my fight and I shan't let innocents suffer!"

This didn't deter the girls, who both raised their wands. The Everqueen commended their wish to fall with her on this day, but these…babes did not deserve that, they had a short and painful life ahead of them, yet still she did not wish them suffering, instead human bravery or was it stupidity had grown on her.

With a smile, she was about to send the girls away with a vine, trapped beneath her own throne, but instead they both were grasped by a giant hand made from dirt, while another reached for her. How cunning it was for the Witch King to create another golem to send and try and flank her, but she was no slouch in magic and was about to banish the golem. Twirling the staff and word of rupture on her lips, The Elven Queen was knocked to the ground by a female figure.

Opening her eyes, she saw a golden eyed elven maiden sitting on top of her, hands outstretched as if trying to placate the Witch King. How had an elf ended up here, her brain tried to find a solution to this sudden problem, but instead it opted for the most logical option and pushed the smaller girl off of her.

"Get off me" she spoke and rose, sending the peasant girl onto the ground, now once more she was ready to face the Witch King, hopefully it wouldn't be too late.

However, it was already too late as Malekith's sword tickled the underside of her chin, almost drawing blood, but not quite.

"_**Excellent Tiffania**_" the Druchii addressed the fallen girl and revulsion overcame her. The peasant girl was a traitor?

"Malekith, please stop this isn't you!" the blonde stood up, much to the Everqueen's shock and approached the Avatar of Khaine. Strangely enough, the blackguard allowed the traitor near him, grabbing her around midriff and pulling her closer.

"_**Oh is it not me?**_" he rumbled and pressed his lips against hers. Only then Alarielle realized, just how handsome the fallen prince had been before the attempted coup. She could see the poor girl struggling against his brutal kiss, but eased into it while the tears still fell from her eyes, dragging her own hand that held the Destroyer. As soon as she held onto him a gentle golden glow shone from the place the hands had been linked and immediately Alarielle looked at her own familiar's mark, which resembled Isha's.

Soon however, what would have been a heart-warming scene to Druchii scum, turned to horror as Malekith suddenly released her and dropped his sword, falling to his knees in agony and screaming bloody murder as if he was burned by the Flames of Asuryan. Served him right, thought the Everqueen and was about to reach for her staff, when once more a sword was pointed at her throat, but this time by the very same young girl, who had been assaulted by the fiend.

Still on the ground Malekith continued to scream as the golden glow overtook his full body. As it slowly vanished, the Witch King of Naggarond sluggishly rose from the ground and almost crumbled on the other elf's shoulder. His eyes half lidded, like one would be from a half-remembered dream.

"Tiffa" Malekith slurred, his voice sonorous and melodic "What happened?"

"First we get house back flying then I'll tell you everything, alright?" the blonde girl asked and much to the surprise of all gathered, the warlord nodded just as sluggishly.

"Great" she patted him on the back and suddenly Alarielle was grabbed by the golem's hand and hoisted into the air as she was carried to Malekith's impromptu fortress.

This day couldn't get any worse.

"Tiffania, what do we do with the prisoners?" a green haired woman appeared from behind the golem. Slowly the Everqueen of the Asur started to understand the hate Druchii held for humans.

"Well we can't leave them, besides they will tell on us"

This day got worse.

Then Louise started cursing and the Queen of Elves was certain that now was the worst day in her life, but at least they didn't forget her staff.

**A.N: Shit, sorry about the late update. Keep safe amidst this epidemic and I'll see you soon. All comments are welcome and I'll see you next time- Spook**


	8. Chapter 7:Women, right?

_**My Elven warlord can't be this cute!**_

_**Tiffania Westwood needed a familiar, she just didn't know it yet. Who is a better familiar for an innocent elf maiden than a King of Elves? The Witch King, of course! To Malekith at least the trees didn't have eyes and no Chaos Daemons were in sight.**_

_**Warnings: see chapter 1, I'm wrecking Warhammer lore as I yet have to read the Sundering series.**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own shit except the belief that Malekith is entitled to tendies and Mommy's milkies**_

Chapter 7: Women, right?

When Malekith opened his eyes, a headache was threatening to split his skull. The Witch King in his millenniums of existence had never suffered such a predicament, even when burning with the flames of Asuryan and dodging the daemon hordes of N'kari in the Warp or listening to Morathi's complaints about how he had accidentally destroyed a prized artifact of hers. Maybe even only one instance compared, long long ago, when he had been tricked into trying some of Snorri's best dwarven brews. The hangover had lasted weeks afterwards, much to the bearded dwarf's amusement.

Now recalling the dwarf king, Malekith cringed at what had he done to his people for the attempt of conquering Ulthuan, yet all these sacrifices had been worth it in the end. However, a small voice at the back of his head questioned this thought.

Wishing not to rise from his bed, the Elven King thought about what could have happened to incur such a state. Delving deeper into his memories, the

Curiously, the past day's activities were gone from his mind, only wisps of memory remaining, of him battling the Everqueen, the taste of Tiffania's lips and the carnage that surrounded the school as he unleashed his sorcerous might on the human magelings, caring not whom was caught in the crossfire between the Eldar sorcerers.

Wait, the Everqueen? Immediately all thoughts of sleep vanished.

Malekith's blood ran cold at the thought as he bolted upright in bed with dread. Alarielle the Radiant was not an elf to be trifled with and for all his boisterous claims before to Finubar and Tyrion, the matter needed to be approached with some caution. Looking around the room, he found solace and some confusion that the Armour of Midnight lay discarded on a wooden chair, while the Destroyer had been just laid against the wall.

Touching his head, the Son of Aenarion found the circlet of iron resting on his brow. Laughing to himself, the dark-haired elf spoke aloud

"Preposterous, all that is missing right now is the Spellshield and Seraphon herself" the thoughts came of his temperamental, acid spewing, but surprisingly affectionate mount "Hopefully Kouran is feeding her as proper" he blurted out as he imagined the Black Dragon flying around the skies of Ulthuan and feasting on wild Pegasi, before shaking his head. Truly this world and Asuryan himself had done something to himself.

Thinking of his loyal footman and, dare he say it, friend, Malekith wondered how the younger elf was faring between juggling his new fiefs and the changes that had been wrought on the world in it's wake. Thoughts of using the vortex to close the gates once more came to the Witch King, but there was always time and place for this, he reminded himself.

Wasting no time, the Tyrant of Naggarond climbed out of bed and immediately willed the armour pieces to himself, quietly questioning himself of what had happened to his conjured robes as his meteoric iron shell enveloped him snugly. Slowly flexing his clawed gauntlets, he had to admit that there was some enjoyment of knowing that anything, bar the elven magic couldn't harm him, while he hadn't looked particular towards this conversation with Tiffania, now that Alarielle was near, no doubt she would try and seduce the girl away from him, despite how just they portrayed themselves Alarielle had the same appetites as Morathi, was there any wonder that her retinue consisted only of nubile young women. Then Malekith recalled that he had humans on board, hazily he had counted three of the female kind being whisked away from their pathetic place of learning. He never had particularly liked the hairless apes, but they had had their uses in the past and would in the future, if a certain she-elf would chime in about that.

As the Mark of Asuryan remained silent, Malekith felt that the Eaglefather was satisfied with his answer.

Now it was time to face whatever laid after that door, he supposed and with the confidence, he certainly needed now, he stepped forth and into the small hallway, where against the wall, clad in full battle garb, the radiant Everqueen awaited, a scowl on her face and staff aimed straight at him. The Witch King was unimpressed, for all their pomp, the Asur had forgotten how to leverage against their foes properly.

"Good morning to you too" he said and tried to brush past her, before finding his way blocked by her staff and a build up of sorcerous energy. If it were any other elven woman of considerable beauty, Malekith might have tried his most charming smile and pushed past her, but this was a bit delicate situation.

"It was easy to convince the girl that we were old friends, but I never thought you picked your servants to be this stupid" despite her pretty face, she spat as vile acid as did Morathi. She only required a less…conservative choice of garb and a wig for him to be hit with a sense of déjà vu, however, she was a bit small in some areas.

"I pondered just to kill you in your sleep and avenge all those you have ruined, but I wanted you to see your doom at my hand, Witch King. For it is my duty as the Everqueen to destroy your blighted lineage and bring peace to my people. If you have a scrap of virtue remaining in your void of a heart, surrender and go with peace to Ereth Khial"

To Malekith, who had his headache return with a vengeance, this threat…nay promise was admirable, but having heard it too many times before, in different tongues and variations. He acted with a speed of millennia old warrior that he was , surpassing Alarielle's decades of built of reflexes and training, with a single fluent motion snatched the staff out of her hands, leaving the Asur defenceless once more.

"I take it that you have already eaten" The Witch King flashed her a radiant smile and swung the staff over his shoulder, ignoring how the artefact tried to resist his strength, before proceeding to walk downstairs. However, a slighted woman might have been prone to acts of cruelty and this included the Everqueen. Her rage was something to behold and without hesitation she drew a stolen kitchen knife and dove after him. The blonde beauty found no gratification in her attempt as the knife bounced off his pitch black armour and it's owner backhanded her, striking her so hard, that she fell onto the wooden floor, with bleeding cheek that knitted itself before his very own eyes. There was no whimpering or crying, just a pointed stare that promised Malekith no respite on this world, when she recovered, of course.

Good, he thought, the sooner she got out of her self pity, the sooner Malekith could use her. It was always better to have someone of your own kind in this strange world, even if Alarielle was millennia too young to comprehend what times had shaped him into the elf he had become.

Maybe if he could draw forth one of the previous Everqueens then he would have a chance to converse with his half sister, the bride of Bel-Shanaar. It was of little import at the time, however.

"Whatever quarrel we might have had in our world, trying to kill me will not bring you back to Ulthuan. Commune with Isha and she will tell you the same. For better or worse our fates are aligned now. If you need me, I'll be downstairs as I cannot live on spite and hatred alone, despite what is said about me" he said dispassionately and waited for the blonde to act. Yet instead of another ill-fated attempt at killing him, she looked straight in his eyes, blue meeting emerald and asked a question that no doubt had haunted her heart ever since her arrival in this strange world.

"What happened to Tyrion? What was his fate when he led Finubar's host against yours?" she asked and despite the nature of the question, Malekith's smile widened slightly. It was not that he enjoyed her needless suffering, but the answer to that question was music to his own pointy ears as Tyrion had been a thorn in his side for centuries. Yet a proper respect was due to a vanquished foe, for the Dragon of Cothique had fought him bravely and lost much like Urian had fought the so called "Aenarion Reborn" to the death.

"I must regret you, that your Alianthra's father fell in battle," as tears welled into her eyes, he no longer smiled, yet offered the distraught woman his condolences. If it had been him decades ago, he would have laughed and tormented her about this suffering, now only thing he could do for her in a laughable attempt at an olive branch was to tell her how her paramour met his end.

"We clashed above the Sea of Dreams. Prince Tyrion fought admirably to the very end, if I had not known it impossible, I would have thought it was my own father reborn facing me in battle."

Bruised face and bruised ego, he thought that he had never before seen an Everqueen brought this low. Now Allarielle allowed herself to cry, clear tears streaming down her cheeks, helpless to the truth that had confirmed the worst of doubt festering all these days in her heart. Feeling the loss of a loved one, Malekith offered her a summoned handkerchief from his room. Looking at him with suspicion she reached out and took the small piece of coarse fabric.

"After I have had my fill, we will continue this discussion about our future here. For we both are on a divine mission it seems" he threw over his shoulder as he left, knowing that she was trying to burn a hole through him with her Gaze, her tantrum was nothing, compared to the catfights between Morathi and Hellebron when it came to sacrificial slaves and his favour.

Descending down the stairs, he paid attention to the creaking wood and made a note to make one of the humans to fix it later. He found the humans lazing about in the kitchen, sitting uneasy at the table. All in unnatural hair colours, while he had not experimented what Dhar did to humans, he supposed that the magic was at fault in these unnatural hair colours, which needed to be expanded upon, experimented on and then added to the strange magic that populated this world.

Three human women, no, girls sat at the small dinner table, all flinched, seeing his armoured form. That was fair, he supposed as the sight of his armour had driven many to turn craven and flee in terror when they saw him stalking the battlefields, followed by his legions of killers and horrifying beasts he had brought to field, knowing that capture would be worse than death. He supposed that these humans were lucky in not knowing just who they were dealing with.

As Malekith approached the table, he, without wasting any time, put down his sword and staff against a nearby wall, lest anyone of them seemed to get any bright ideas. The green haired one was named Mathilda, if he recalled correctly. Sitting down the Elven King decided that it would be prudent to lessen this air unease for even if they were hostages, he had other things to worry about than a bunch of human prisoners.

"Good morning" he spoke injecting magic into his voice to calm the females, which did work well enough for his purposes as their bodies relaxed, not minding the towering elf beside them, that helped himself to the reminders of the breakfast that had almost grown cold.

A cooked hare, Malekith raised his eyebrows, Tiffania was definitely improving, both in her culinary skills and in her choice of the food…

As he sat down the table the girls shared weary looks, which he pointedly ignored in favour of eating his breakfast in peace. As he ate with slow, small bites, Mathilda saw it necessary to be the first of these humans to address him, thus interrupting his meal.

"King Malekith-"

"If you saw it fit to interrupt me then you must be very brave or foolish" the elf said, having finished chewing on the small leg "Well do go on…" he trailed off and continued eating.

"Tiffania told me that what had happened yesterday was not how you usually acted. I was wondering if you might shed some light on the matter, especially since the purple haired girl sitting across you is Princess Henrietta de Tristain, the current acting ruler of the country whose nobles you slew on your rampage through the academy"

"Human-" the Witch King started to say, but was interrupted by the pink haired adolescent who had a scowl on her face as opposed to the serene princess.

"HOW DARE YOU ADRESS HER HIGHNESS THIS WAY, YOU POINTY EARED DEMON!" came the shouts and immediately Malekith let it be known that he didn't suffer fools and the brat found her mouth shutting on her own, regardless of her wishes to speak. Her hands frantically tried to get her to speak and when her hands refused to do her bidding, her eyes looked at the elf with unabashed horror. Child or not, Malekith was not in the mood for games right now.

"I must apologize, but my own subjects were much better behaved when addressing foreign royalty. Maybe it is because of your recent acquaintance to Alarielle the Radiant that you find boldness in your unfavourable situation, but I must remind you that I shall not suffer insults or attacks on my royal personage, even if you have not seen an elf in centuries" His voice was calm, yet the menace in it could be heard clearly, making all the women at the table flinch at his clearly unnatural magic.

"K-King Malekith, w-would you be so kind to r-release mine retainer of this curse you have placed upon her? I-I will vouch for her with my own life" plead the apparent princess with a stutter and the sorcerer thought about it. On one hand he would gain some goodwill from the monarch, but on the other hand humans did not pose him much threat as whatever he had done on his rampage was slowly coming back to him. The feeling batting back spells and eviscerating mages without even lifting a finger. Perhaps there was a merit in her suggestion. Very well, he would see about what his judgement had wrought.

"Very well" and as if it had never happened, the other girl could breathe, with grim satisfaction Malekith took in the fear in her eyes and how she sought the company of the Princess, who herself was afraid of him, but disguised it much masterfully, not a muscle out place, but long he had learned to feel these things in the magic that surrounded every living being in his world or the next.

"As for your question Mathilda" he turned to the green woman who had dispassionately surveyed the scene "Land where I hail from, the gods exist and they are as fickle as you might expect" he projected his voice into her head, while answering the same question, she had just asked

"One such god, a god of war claimed me as his own instrument and little can one do, when opened up to divinity"

_How is it that these human girls are so calm? I think they would be less likely to forgive me for my slaughter of their peers if not for a magic of sorts_

"So I became a beast on warpath, before Tiffania, who is also touched by our gods, plead for her patron to smite the brute and free me from Khaine's whims"

_Now you will excuse yourself and go outside, where you will explain to me, just what had happened to those girls._

"I must truly apologize for my conduct as a king, however my actions were not my own" Malekith gave alight bow to the princess ahead of him, making the barest effort to appear congenial to them. The princess and Tiffania's acquaintance noticed this too, but the pink haired menace looked smug and the sorcerer had to will himself not to pop her head like some sort of grape in an instant.

"Soon you will know your fate and shan't live in fear. I and my allies are no blackguards" at least not to stoop so low as to touch a human. Malekith smiled at the purple haired girl, who, by Khaine's balls, blushed a little. It was revolting, but he had seen and faced worse.

"I shall take my leave now as there are pressing matters for me to attend to" he rose from the table and flashed the pink haired monstrosity another look "Princess, if you want to have your dog with you. Teach her to not speak, unless spoken to"

With that Malekith with his weapons left the house as the green haired woman, Mathilda was it? followed him. In the small courtyard he saw Tiffania sitting in the meditation position he had taught her. Her long hair was flowing with the glow of magic and he could feel her drawing on the light and wind as she tried to feel her magic. Malekith shook his head as she had so much to learn and for him so much to teach her, maybe Alarielle would help him, once she had gotten used to her position. Well maybe not, but the Witch King half-heartedly hoped that this would be an exception and she would cooperate.

Then again, he had propositioned her rudely before almost killing her, so the chances were slim, that and he had caused death of one of the Everqueens, which went against him. So, he concluded that this not meant to be.

"What happened to the princess and the pink beasts? Did they not see me eviscerate the royal guard in my rampage. No one would be that calm naturally and there was a tinge of magic in the air, different from the woven enchantments of the house. Interesting, I thought you only capable of mastering the magic of Earth. It may seem that I had underestimated you, human."

The human woman looked at Tiffania and the male elf noted that her stare was onto the ring on the half-elf's fingers. So that ring was not just the badge of office as he had thought initially, focusing his witch sight, it was hard to discern magic and it's source, but soon Malekith found that the source of the enchantment was truly the gem on her finger.

"What exactly did she do?"

"Your Highness" she spoke with fear palpable in her voice "I taught Tiffania the spell left to her by her mother that would suppress certain memories in emergency, but strangely enough there was no fatigue and she seemed alright after dragging you back here." After hearing her explanation, Malekith nodded and thought that she had more surprises than he had thought and slowly approached the woman.

"I see" he spoke, but his attention was solely focused on the half-elf in front of him. He would find out the details later, she was much more important, right now. Kneeling before her, his armoured leg digging into earth. Looking into the young girl's eyes, he addressed the child.

"Hello Tiffa" he said with undisguised joy as he felt the last of his headaches wipe away. She opened her eyes at the sound of his voice and slightly jumped away in surprise and he felt all of the magic draw back into her body as she looked at him uncomfortably.

"Your Grace" she said timidly and now Malekith knew that whatever Khaine had done, had put a spanner in his plans and possibly alienated Tiffania, chasing into the Everqueen's arms "I see that you have recovered"

"That I have. It's quite uncomfortable when you can't do nothing, but watch as an bloodthirsty God of War use your own body as a marionette, but thanks to you, his possession was brief"

"You needn't be afraid of me" he continued and Tiffania didn't seem to believe his words as she took a deep breath and rose to her feet, Malekith following suit. Towering over her, the Witch King remained silent allowing to air her grievances with him.

"I need not to be afraid of you Malekith?" she muttered quietly as her eyes looked at the ground, not the elf in front of her "How can I feel safe, when you are much more of a monster than when you lied to me? How can I feel safe when you have been the cause of much evil to your own people and the rest of the world?"

"Tiffa-" he wanted to convince her that this was not true, but as she interrupted him, he knew that she was right and allowed these rightful accusations of his malice fly straight at him.

"You betrayed the promise to your best friend. You tried to destroy the world if you couldn't have it and when your wife tried to come back, you had her killed. How can I trust you after all of this? How can I look at you and not think of the horrors you would do to me if I was more human than an elf? How can I believe in your promises when you have broken them? Were you really sent by Asuryan or was this another lie?!"

Like cold daggers, each of the accusations dug deeper and deeper into his flesh as she laid his faults bare and vengefully Malekith knew who was at fault here. Maybe he should have been much harsher on the female elf he had disarmed. Looking at Tiffania, his smile now was replaced with a frown and his brows furrowed in exasperation.

"Tiffania" he whispered quietly despite that he could feel the humans discomfort, who had her wand aimed at him. He would deal with her later, the half-elf was much more important than anything else here "I did not have my wife killed. The dwarves betrayed me first as they took no sides in the conflict, betraying Snorri's will and me in the process! They accelerated their own war and paid for it in full!"

"You-"

This time Malekith refused to allow Tiffania to speak "So what if you had been human. When you first met me, your fate was to be by my side, human or not. Tiffania Westwood, believe what you want, for all her vaunted kindness Alarielle sees you as a lesser and an affront of her for your association with me. She has already designated you as a servant and not a friend. I am content to leave you by the next time we land for water, but know this Tiffa" she flinched at the nickname in which she had delighted these past week before, yet continued to listen.

"Alarielle the Radiant shall not help you to return your birthright. She will find the other elves, of course. However, after that she will discard you as the half-abomination that she thinks you are. I have been on your side for the entirety of our companionship. Have I treated you poorly? Have I hurt you and touched you that brought revulsion? Have been the monster she has told you about? I have told you my own tale and it is your decision whether to believe it or not."

Tiffania stood there silent, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. Malekith knew that this was a hard decision, so he stood there, unflinching and unmoving, looking in the distance to the clear sky.

"What should I do, Mathilda?" she turned to the green haired human woman, who quietly watched the two of them, making no judgement until she was beside her friend. The Witch King had merely an eyebrow raised as he looked on.

"I hoped for you to have a peaceful life in the woods and that's why I left to teach, but with this elf" she nudged her head at the armoured sorcerer "You will have no rest if you go your separate ways or take him with you, for nobles can and will carry a grudge. I profess to a slight disbelief that King Malekith could take back Albion for you handily, but he would be a huge start in reclaiming your birthright. While he honestly terrifies me, it would make us much safer if he was with us in battle and the inevitable politics than apathetic or an enemy. The Queen is a bitch and I may be biased here, but the Witch King is a mighty ally to have."

Then as if he couldn't hear her, she leaned in and whispered in Tiffania's ear "With him you can also limit the damage he can do to the world"

He looked at the half-elf and the Son of Aenarion saw just how conflicted she was. Her fists were clenched, and her body was shaking, while he felt pure Dhar build up within her. He hoped that Tiffania would choose wisely, but he wouldn't influence her making the decision. It was the last kindness he would do to her for all her loyalty until this moment. If she did not want his assistance, Malekith was content to hunt for the elves on his own, but with Tiffania it would be much easier if she would have her own country, then the Elves would no doubt aware of her existance and from his experience in politics, everyone approached the new players on the global scale.

Seeing the moment drag on, the Witch King told the two whispering women "I shall return Aralielle her staff, when you have made your decision Tiffa, come and see me."

With that Malekith left the two and ventured inside the house, his temper foul and eyes aglow with magic. Like a hawk he sought his prey and marched upstairs, not caring of the humans. He wanted to have a word with his "wife to be".

Opening the door, the Witch King found the woman sitting and meditating on the wooden floor.

"Oh it's you" she acknowledged him with one open eye and continued her meditation, yet Malekith had enough. His temper had decided to manifest now and the Dark magic rose the Elven woman into air, constricting her movement and dragged her towards Malekith, limbs flailing.

"You had to inform Tiffania, didn't you" he hissed and a vicious smile came at the realization and her limbs stopped flailing as she was in his grasp. She looked like a very fortunate woman, despite his talons digging into her neck.

"The girl had to be informed of your true nature, Witch King" Malekith applied some of his strength to the grip, which made her choke and laugh harder.

"Did you honestly think that your crimes will be forgiven here? Asuryan or not, you cannot be !"

"I wonder what will happen if you will perish here" the Son of Aenarion tilted his head, his handsome face twisted into malicious sneer.

"You wouldn't dare!" she continued to laugh "It will only prove to Tiffania that I was right. Will you break that sweet girl like the monster you are?"

"Shut your mouth"

"Erase her memories so she is your plaything, Malekith?"

"Woman…" the Witch King snarled, his composure crumbling. The Dark Lord threw the woman back into her own bed, surprising her for a moment, before her viciousness returned.

"Oh, so will you rape me here? I knew you were a craven brute. Guess the moment when Khaine possessed you it was the truth? Your father would be ashamed."

"I would rather eviscerate you right now, but out of my respect for Tyrion you draw breath" faster than her eyes could see, the Witch King was in front of her, once more grabbing her by the throat and lifting her by his hands. His mark burned white hot, yet Malekith's fury burned hotter still.

"You know nothing!" he almost roared like an enraged dragon "Nothing of that time, nor the terror Elves were forced to live through"

He let her almost breathless body fall to the ground as he hissed because of the pain.

"I am amazed that a child such as you could draw my ire, alas I cannot kill you. For if I leave, who will teach Tiffania? She shall be hunted and I suggest that if you wish to chase me away, you should be ready to take my place."

"That abomination?" she asked, massaging her bruised throat "That stupid minion of yours is no ally of mine, I need her not and what will she do once you're gone is none of my business. Only the princess and the chit that summoned me, nothing more."

Now Malekith's ragged breaths stopped and instead a vicious smile adorned his lips "So this is what you think of this innocent girl, who has never wished anyone harm. How truly despicable, is it her crime to be born to such parents?"

Sensing that something was afoot the Everqueen still took the bait.

"This has nothing to do with me. She is your responsibility, if she disowns you then it is of no consequence to me. It was your fault to promise this half breed the world."

"I promised her nothing more than she is owed. Is it not true, Tiffa?" Malekith asked aloud and he needed not to look to see the half-elf and her surrogate sister looking them through the doorway, shocked and hopeless.

"You bastard" the Elven woman hissed in anger, her melodious voice becoming shriller. In that moment Malekith knew that he had her back.

"I trust that you have made your decision, Queen Tiffania?" all parties were in shock as he addressed the blonde girl. He turned towards her and instead of her bubbly personality a more subdued girl looked at him. It was cute that she tried to look older with her scowl, but she would have a very long time to come to his standards. Yet there was promise here.

"King Malekith" she spoke in a clipped tone, which was probably taught by the rest of the human nobility "Despite my doubt, it is clear that you have my best interests in mind, despite your violent and brutish ways. However I have not forgiven you still."

She was simply adorable, if only he could get her in Naggarythe sorceress' vestments.

"I shall accept your loyalty, might and magic in return you will teach me. You will not slaughter wantonly and inform me of you plans before acting." Tiffania struggled to keep up this persona and Mathilda beside her was on the verge of banging her head on frame of the door.

The King of Druchii, Asur and soon Asrai approached the rightful Queen of Albion and knelt before her in dramatic fashion. Now he knew one certain thing- Tiffania Westwood, rather De Albion, was incapable of forming long grudges.

"I, Malekith of Naggarythe, Son of Aenarion and Phoenix King of Ulthuan, recognize your conditions, Tiffania De Albion and find them agreeable" He looked her in the eyes and flashed her a smile.

"Take a good look, you won't find me kneeling much, Tiffa" he laughed good naturedly and seeing her flush scarlet and gingerly place her hand in his. Oh how good it felt to act like an average princeling! His own romances had been business-like and Allisara was a straightforward girl, not compared to the maiden in front of him. She had a long way till she would become a worthy retainer, but maybe she could even lead her own coven on Ulthuan. The White tower of Hoeth seemed like a fitting place.

To Malekith, everything was better than alright and in his head more plans within plans turned.

"My lady," his lips brushed the mark of Asuryan and the gentle glow from the mark voiced the Eagle-Father's approval. The scheming bastard, Malekith thought and the second he let go of her hand, the Witch King was enveloped in a close hug by the erstwhile Queen of the floating Kingdom. Malekith could feel the hatred and dislike coming from the Everqueen. As he heard Tiffania profusely apologizing and pleading for him not to be angry at her, the Phoenix King decided that maybe he would hunt for another mount some other time. He had an apprentice to groom and an Everqueen to antagonize.

Across the sea, in the country of Romalia, the Bazilica of Brimir was fully alert. Paladins and clerics marched across the grounds while flying gryphons and giant eagles covered the air. In the spire across the belltower, in his private chambers the Pope, Vittorio Serevare, was reading a thick report, while a fireplace churned in front of him. His sceptre and magical foci rested behind him.

Despite the untidy desk and clutter that surrounded him, his mind was clearer than ever.

"A horned Elven sorcerer has destroyed the Magical academy of Tristain and kidnapped the princess. The casualties range in hundreds, if accounting the damages of the storm and loss of manpower. Tristain might as well have capitulated to Galia, Germania or whoever decides to make a move. What do you think, Windalfr?" reading aloud from the paper he addressed the other figure in his chambers. Slowly the man stepped into the light and flames bounced of his shaven head, while an impressive moustache looked furious.

"Call me Volkmar, my lord" he harrumphed "It can't be the Reconquista and according to what the witnesses could tell us currently is that the wizard in question is of Dark Elf variety and by chance was it male?"

Vittorio nodded and Volkmar grew even more grim.

"Then this is no ordinary Druchii raider, but the King of them. Witch King Malekith he is called in human tongue. He is a sorcerer of much infamy and legend sire. I cannot profess to know his goals, but you must be careful with him. Brute force will yield no results here."

During the explanation the Pope seemed to be listening, yet not. Instead he grabbed another scroll and tossed it to the Grand Theogonist. Reading it, the older man cursed loudly and fell into one of the plush chairs.

"So you see what are we dealing with here"

"Bloody vampires" Volkmar muttered and his master nodded "So which do we tackle first?" he asked his familiar who was at a loss of words seeing the dilemma before him.

"If I may be frank" he started "We might face an unwinnable war if this situation is allowed to fester, because if Malekith can be compared to a ferocious dragon, then what these bloodsuckers bring is worse than a plague. We cannot let vampirism spread. In a single generation they almost overrun the largest of human countries, starting from a single city. May Sigmar protect us"

Vittorio looked at him with a disapproving look "I shall not tolerate your heresy here"

"If Brimir can't shield you from the vampire menace, then he is not a true god. Sigmar" he pulled out the small hammer pendant "His faith has killed their kind before. The choice is yours. The real question is how we incorporate him into Church of Brimir so that there is little fuss?"

Volkmar smiled, much to the Pope's chagrin, because he had to admit that his familiar possessed powers different from his, which were clearly associated with his faith in this Sigmar.

Maybe the Elf was the smaller problem right now. Vittorio pressed his hands together and offered a prayer first to Brimir and then to Sigmar, replicating the small version the Grand Theogonist had taught him.

This had better work.

**A.N- Didn't expect that, did you? As said Malus Darkblade "Through caffeine all things are possible". How did you like the chapter? Please let me know and thanks to all these kind folks who reviewed this ignoble fanfiction. Yes, there will be sexual tension and blood transmissive diseases, delivered through fangs. As for Chaos, who knows. **

**Have a nice day, be merry, marry. Now I'm gonna grab me some ice cream-Spook**


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